


where your heart is set in stone

by adastraas



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Injury, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Past Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Post-Season/Series 07, Season/Series 08, Slow Burn, Violence, implied Plance, mentioned krolivan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 15:20:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16935708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adastraas/pseuds/adastraas
Summary: People always leave. People have always doubted him, given up on him.Keith’s the only one who never has.(Or, five times Shiro almost saidI love youto Keith, and one time he actually does.)





	where your heart is set in stone

**Author's Note:**

> Also known as, the one where they are painfully in love with each other but navigating the limbo between friendship and starting a relationship in the middle of a war is Tough™
> 
> I'm new here. My sister dragged me back into Voltron in June, and I've been stuck here in sheith hell ever since. I haven't been involved in a fandom in a while, but I had this idea and had to write it. this has been in the works since August, and my goal was to post it before season 8, so here we are! I've been affectionately referring to this as my tin hat fic since I started it, and this has been a fun way to speculate about season 8. A lot of these things will probably be proved wrong by canon, but I had a blast writing it, especially since I've been in a terrible writer's block for over a year and this finally freed me. 
> 
> My writing is a bit rusty, and this is not super closely edited or beta read because I wanted to post it before season 8. 
> 
> as a final side note, the carnival scene came about because my sister and I were looking at the poster from NYCC and noticed that the kids are in what looks like a carnival ride, and the guards from Bloodlines was sitting on top of it. we joked that a carnival scene would be funny, so that happened. I totally used it as an opportunity for a break from angst and to write a date (but not a date when you're in Denial) moment :D 
> 
> This has been an absolute Ride, and I hope you enjoy it !!

 

  ** _i._**

“Shiro, please.” Keith’s begging, pleading as he fights to hold back Shiro’s attack with his blade.

But this isn’t him. This isn’t Shiro.

It is, though. He’s who Keith pleads with. He’s who fights Keith to the brink of death. He’s who—

_“I love you!”_

Except this time, love isn’t enough. It doesn’t save them. Those are Keith’s last words to him as his arm sears the flesh of his cheek, his foot pressed to Keith’s chest as the platform crumbles beneath them. They fall and fall and—

 

“Shiro?” That’s Keith, voice urgent, worried. “Shiro, wake up.”  

He does, jolting upright in one of the small beds in Black’s cargo hold, breath caught in his throat, chest tight like something dark has constricted around him and refuses to let go.

But there are also gentle and familiar hands on him, holding him steady. Keith’s hand rests on his chest, over his racing heart, the other on his cheek. His touch is reverent, grounding. Something that always brings Shiro home.

“I’ve got you,” Keith whispers. “It’s alright, Shiro.”

It was just a nightmare. Keith is here. Keith is alive. They really had made it through that fight. “Keith… You’re here…”

“I’m here,” he says, worried look morphing into a small smile as Shiro presses his hand over Keith’s, holds it to his cheek. He needs to feel his touch. Needs to know this is real. “We both are.”

Shiro sighs, leans back down against the bed, shuts his eyes for a moment. In the dim light of the room, he can see the scar on Keith’s cheek. Every time he looks at it, it’s a painful stab of guilt—a reminder of what he’d done, of how much worse he could have done.

“Sorry if I woke you,” he mutters. He might try to turn away if he were stronger, but the proximity, Keith’s warm and comforting hands on him after so long apart are nice. Welcomed after Shiro’s been purposely distancing himself in the short time since Keith brought him back.

It’s selfish to take what Keith’s been so willing to give all along now, when he’s been holding himself back from it. But he’s weak and scared and tired. This is what he’s been craving for so long.

“You know I don’t mind.” He slides his hand over Shiro’s shoulder, a comforting touch, before he takes his hand, squeezing it. A punctuation, a request not to argue this any further. He doesn’t mind, never does.

That’s the thing about Keith that terrifies Shiro. The way he looks at him. The way he touches him. Like he’s something special, like he’s worth crossing the universe for. Like he’s worth Keith sacrificing himself to save over and over again.

He loves Keith for this. Loves every bit and piece of him. But these same things terrify him more than anything. To have Keith love him like this. To love Keith just as much.

“Are you alright, Shiro? Do you want to talk about it?” The question is hesitant, thoughtful—carefully chosen and spoken. Keith’s worried he’s overstepping, and all Shiro wants is to take his hand and ask him to stay. Tell him exactly what he thinks, exactly how he feels.  

“No… not really.” He’s been avoiding this conversation ever since he’d woken up in his clone’s body and was hit with the overwhelming desire to kiss Keith. To say he loves him too. It’s easier to run from this right now. “I’ll be alright.”

It’s easier to run, but he’s tired of running from this, from Keith, from everything they could have together if they weren’t in the middle of a war.

Keith frowns, looking away from his face to their clasped hands. “Okay, but Shiro, you’re not alone. If you need anything, I’m right here.”

“I know that.” He squeezes Keith’s hand. “And that means more to be than you’ll ever know. I’ll be fine. Just getting used to all of this.”

Keith nods and squeezes Shiro’s hand back. It’s a gesture that normally would be a mark of finality in the matter—in the past, it might have been. But now, Keith’s touch lingers, fleeting. Keith looks like he wants to stay, hesitates as if he’s grappling with the decision to stand and let go of Shiro’s hand or stick around for longer.

“Well… I don’t want to crowd you. I might go up to the cockpit and…”

But Shiro _wants_ him to stay.

“Hey, Keith?” Shiro grasps his wrist as he stands to leave.

“Yeah?”

“You… you should get some rest, too. And I wouldn’t mind the company, if that’s alright with you. Will you…?”  

“Yes, I’ll stay,” Keith whispers. His lips quirk into a small smile as Shiro pulls back the blankets and tugs him into the small bed.  

.

 

His arm has settled around Keith while they slept—where they had started with a decent amount of distance between them had become nonexistent while they slept, their legs tangled, Shiro’s arm around Keith, fingers splayed across his hip and onto his back, Keith’s fingers curled in a loose grip in the front of Shiro’s shirt.

Well. That’s an unexpected development.

But really, it’s not all that unexpected. And it’s by no means unwelcomed. He’s craved Keith’s presence ever since he’d been lucky enough to get it back. For that seemingly endless stretch of time in the astral plane, the one thing he’d always regretted is seeing Keith in pain, never being able to give him closure or a goodbye, watching him pull away from the team for the clone—for Shiro—to remain with Black.

He’d almost ruined that, hadn’t he? Keith’s attempts to save him would have been for nothing had Shiro killed him in their fight.

He frowns, brushing his hand over Keith’s cheek, thumb tracing over the scar. The dreams are always the same. It’s always more than just the scar—Keith’s lifeless body, blood, falling into the vast nothingness of space. Every single one ends with Keith in pain, suffering because of Shiro, because of his desire to save him. Sometimes he can’t bear to think that all of these dreams are plausible outcomes, could have beens that changed to realities with a few missteps.

Keith’s eyes flutter open at the touch to his cheek. The furrow of his brows as he blinks away sleep and tries to remember where he is quickly fades, melts into a smile when he looks at Shiro. “Morning.”

His breath hitches as Keith shifts, his foot brushing against Shiro’s calf, reminding him that their legs are tangled. The whole thing has a domesticity to it that he craves, that he’d love to selfishly take as his own, but can’t bring himself to. “Yeah. Morning.”

“Everything okay?” Keith’s smile falters a little, eyebrows furrowing as he studies Shiro’s face.

“Yeah. Just… thinking.”

“Too early for that,” Keith murmurs. He’s beautiful like this, in the quiet of the early morning, unguarded and open, his whole heart bared for Shiro to see, for Shiro to take into his hands, to have and to hold. _His._

“Hard to keep track of time here, isn’t it?”

“Tell me about it.” Keith leans into the warmth of Shiro’s hand, eyes fluttering shut again. “You doing okay? You seemed pretty shaken up last night.”

“Yeah. Just a nightmare.” He pulls his hand away from Keith’s cheek, unsure of where to place it—they’re lying so damn close together that there’s no space where he isn’t touching Keith. “Nothing I’m not used to already.”

Except this is a whole new wave of nightmares that what he’d had before, these riddled with everything from their fight now. It seems to be all he dreams about unless he’s lucky enough to have a dreamless sleep. But those nights are few and far in between.

Keith sighs. “You don’t have to brush it off, Shiro. You’ve been through so much. If you ever need to talk about it, I’m here.”

“I know you are.” He looks down, watches as Keith tangles their fingers together. These fleeting, intimate touches are new, something Keith has grown a little bolder with since they’ve reunited. Yet it feels like something they’ve been doing for ages, something completely natural, something that just fits with everything they are. “The same goes for you. I know you’ve had nightmares too.”

Keith nods, looks away from Shiro and leans his forehead against his chest instead. “Yeah… thanks.”

They stay like that—pressed together in the small bed, silent, only able to hear each other’s breaths and the quiet beating of their hearts. It’s nice, comforting for the moment. Shiro thinks he could stay like this, just the two of them here like this, forever and he’d be content. No war, no complicated feelings, nothing to fear.

“Hey,” Keith finally whispers into the dim light of the room, voice muffled against Shiro’s chest. It’s like a breath, hesitant and quiet enough that Shiro could feign falling back asleep and ignore it.

_But…_

“Something on your mind?” he mumbles against Keith’s shoulder.

“Yeah…” Keith squeezes his hip, touch trailing along Shiro’s side. “A lot, actually.”

Shiro pulls his head away from Keith’s shoulder, shifts so they can look each other in the eye. Their bodies are already close, hands splayed across each other—touching, savoring places they already know of, learning new ones—but now their faces are close too.

“I thought you said it’s too early to think.” He tries to joke, but it’s ill-timed, falls flat as Keith shifts away from him to sit up instead.  

Keith lifts one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug, noncommittal. There’s something on his mind, something he wants to say.

“Keith?” He sits too, and he really shouldn’t, but he can’t stop himself from reaching for Keith’s hands and taking them in his own. “Everything okay?”

For a moment, Shiro doesn’t think Keith will say whatever he’s thinking about, simultaneously knows what may be coming yet doesn’t know what to expect. Keith shatters all of that when he speaks.

“Shiro… we haven’t…” He trails off, takes a breath before starting again, voice stronger this time. “We haven’t really talked since everything happened. And I understand if you don’t want to, but… do you remember our fight? Do you remember what I said?”

He does. It haunts his dreams—sends his heart soaring, aching with love until its overwhelmed with guilt as he remembers the scenario that’d accompanied Keith’s ‘ _I love you.’_  

Trying to kill his best friend. Nearly allowing Keith to die along with him before Black saved them. The bruises littered all over Keith’s body, the scar he’d burned onto his cheek. Keith had said he’d loved him, but he can never forget how he’d nearly ended Keith’s life.

“Pieces of it,” he lies, shifting slightly as Keith tilts his head, frowning at the answer. He’s always been able to see right through Shiro. It’s comforting, yet frustrating in a situation like this.

“Which pieces, Shiro?” Keith looks away, tries to draw his knees to his chest, protective, closing in on himself to keep himself safe. “You’ve been pushing me away since… I need to know if it’s because…”

“It’s not,” he says, quick and to the point. Because it’s true. It hurts, hurts to know that because he’s been holding Keith at arms’ length, afraid to open up fully and let him in, that Keith has been beating himself up over possibly messing up what they have. “Keith…”

“I meant it,” he whispers. “But you don’t need to worry about hurting me. If it’s not the same for you, I—”

“It’s not that,” he insists again, squeezing Keith’s hands to punctuate that. “I just…”

Every excuse, every fear he has, pales to the way Keith looks at him. Vulnerable, open, just as afraid. But there’s that same kindness, that love that’s always there when he looks at Shiro. His throat tightens with emotion.

“You can tell me.” Keith reaches out, leans closer and rests his hand on Shiro’s arm. “Shiro…”  

He doesn’t answer, can’t answer. Doesn’t know what to say or how he’s supposed to explain this all to Keith. That he loves him, but he’s terrified of that. That every time he closes his eyes, he sees how one second could have changed the outcome of that fight. That he dreams about how he’d hurt Keith, how much worse he could have done to Keith. That he doesn’t understand how Keith can still love him when he’s done nothing but pull away since they’d been drawn back together. If he pushes Keith away instead of getting closer, neither of them will hurt as badly as if they never take this step in their relationship, no matter how they both feel.

“You blame yourself.” Keith sighs, pulling his hands from Shiro’s. “I _chose_ to come after you. And I’m fucking glad I did! You wouldn’t be here if—”

“Maybe I shouldn’t be.”

Keith frowns. His eyes are marred with surprise, hurt, sadness. There he goes again, hurting Keith. “You don’t actually think that, do you? Shiro, don’t… don’t say…”

“I hurt you,” he finally whispers. It’s mostly a confession of guilt that never leaves his mind, but doubles as a way to cut off the sadness of Keith’s tone. He lifts his hand, the thought to brush it over Keith’s scar until he decides against it and lowers his hand. “I could have killed you.”

“But you didn’t,” Keith insists, reaching for Shiro’s hand again. “It wasn’t your fault. That wasn’t you. It was Haggar. You—”

“Maybe not, but it was my body. And I remember it like it was me. I would have been the reason you—”

“I’d do it all again in a second, Shiro.” Keith says these things with so much conviction. Like he has no doubt in his mind. It’s terrifying. He can’t—won’t—be the reason Keith gets hurt. “I meant what I said. You’re everything to me. I… I love—”

“You shouldn’t have to choose between yourself and me,” he whispers, pulling away from Keith’s touch. It hurts, when he wants nothing more than to lean into it, to accept it as everything he’s ever wanted. “And… and now we…”

“So I should have just let you go through that wormhole?” Keith hisses, voice rising. “I should have let you go and fall from that platform? Is that what you’re saying, Shiro?”

“Keith…” He groans, dragging a hand over his face, frustrated that Keith can’t see what he’s trying to say, heart breaking from fighting like this. “Would you have killed me? If it was necessary or I asked you to, would you?”

“W-what?” He shakes his head, eyes frantic, his expression so horrified, Shiro regrets saying the words out of frustration to prove a point. “Don’t talk like that! I’d never…”

“That’s my point. You can’t choose me like that. We’re in a war! I’m not more important than the rest of the universe.”

“There’s never been a choice for me to make! I can’t lose you. I’ve almost lost you too many times. I can’t…”

He feels the same. Of course, he feels the same. He can’t lose Keith, never wants to lose Keith, but…

Keith’s too important to him to try and put a real and concrete, permanent definition to. He’s Shiro’s best friend—one of the only real friends he’s ever had—but he’s so much more than that. One moment, Keith is a sharp stab, a painful ache of longing in his chest. The next, he’s the sun, too bright to look at, warm to the touch, his hands and his smile all encompassing. They have too much of a history and years of shared memories together to brush off as nothing. And there’s so much his heart aches to gain. He wants to be selfish. Wants to take Keith into his arms and never let go. Ever. But something always holds him back, always gets in the way.

It seems the universe wants to tear them apart, no matter how many times they’ve fought their way back to each other. There’s no way this can end well.

He wishes he could say more, could admit how he feels to Keith and himself. _I'm sorry I didn't act sooner. I'm sorry this is how it has to be. I love you._

Actions have always spoken louder than words ever have for them, at least. He’s never needed Keith to say how much he means to him, or that he’s his friend, or put a label to their relationship because _they_ know and feel those things. And it’s always easier to slip into physical assurances than it is to go through the trouble of saying them, especially when they can read each other so well.

“So what happens now?” Keith finally asks. He’s turned away from Shiro, legs swung over the side of the bed, like he’s ready to bolt depending on Shiro’s answer. It hurts that Keith won’t look at him. “What’s next?”

Shiro can’t give an honest answer. Mostly because he doesn’t know, but also because he doesn’t want to think of what can happen next.

“I don’t know,” he confesses. “I think… I think we could both use some space. Right now isn’t the time to try and work through this. We’re… we’re in the middle of a war, Keith. We have responsibilities, and—”

War isn’t kind. War will tear them apart. In some ways, it already has. Draws them closer together, then rips them apart again. He died. He can easily die again. So can Keith. Nothing about this is simple, personal feelings be damned.

“Okay.” Keith stands and heads for the door. He still won’t look at Shiro. All he can see is Keith’s back, his slumped shoulders. “Okay. If that’s what you want, fine. Sorry I brought it up.”

His voice cracks a little, all low and quiet, another pang in Shiro’s chest—of sadness and regret and guilt. It’s such a hard punch to his gut that his instinct is to cross the room and pull Keith back into his arms. To apologize for all of this—for hurting him so much—and telling him the truth, every single bit of it.

Except he can’t. He can’t do that.

No matter what they both want, this is for the best. It might not seem that way now, but…

_But it has to be._

It’s too complicated to say, but if he were to confess one thing to Keith, he’d want it to be that he loves him too much to let him die. It hurts to let go—he’s never wanted to let go—but he will if it means Keith gets out of this war, safe and alive. He’d do anything for that, even if it means sacrificing any potential happiness they could have together to gain that result.

“Keith?”

He pauses, hand on the door, but still doesn’t turn around. “Yeah?”

“I… you’re still my best friend. And I care about you so much. I’m…”

Keith turns now to look at him, hands lowered to his sides, fists clenched tightly. “I know.” His lips settle in a frown, and even with the distance between them, Shiro can tell he’s trying to hold it together with his teeth biting his lip and hands curled so tightly into fists at his sides. He looks defeated, yet still tries to force himself to smile as he says, “You’re still my best friend too, Shiro. This… this doesn’t change anything. I promise.”  

He turns away again, quick, lets out a shaky breath. “I should get back up there. I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Yeah.” He could reach out right now, tell Keith to wait rather than leave things like this, unsettled and painful. He doesn’t have to let Keith walk away hurting and heartbroken, but he does. All he’s good for is staring at his lap until he hears Keith shut the door behind him on the way out.

“See you later,” he repeats, but with Keith’s presence gone, there’s no one to say it to except the cold, emptiness of the room.

 

  
_**ii.** _

 

He slides to a stop in the doorway. Keith’s sitting, hugging Krolia, Kolivan off to the side. For a moment, Shiro’s tempted to step away, to leave. As much as he’s worried about Keith, this isn’t his place. This isn’t—

But Keith sees him before he can turn away. His face breaks into a smile, tired but bright, inherently happy, and he lifts one hand from where it rests on Krolia’s back in a wave. “Shiro.”

“Keith.” Krolia and Kolivan’s eyes are now on him too, and for some reason he feels the heat of embarrassment. “I’m so glad you’re awake. I can come back later…”

“Oh…” Keith’s face falls, his smile dropping into a frown.

“Stay,” Krolia encourages, moving to stand. “There’ll be plenty of time for us to see each other.” She rests a hand on Keith’s shoulder, and leans in to kiss to his forehead.

They’ve already said all they needed to, it seems. Krolia smiles, knowing look in her eyes as she presses a hand to Shiro’s shoulder on her way out. Kolivan tells Keith to get some rest and also claps Shiro on the shoulder in quiet regard on his way out. It’s all strangely approving in a way that makes his heart simultaneously soar and ache.

“Gonna stand there and stare all day, Captain?”

He shakes his head, laughter on his lips as he surges forward to Keith’s bedside and pulls him into a gentle hug.

Keith’s fingers curl in the back of his jacket, a tight vice-grip, quiet refusal to let go.

“You’re here,” Keith mumbles, awestruck, almost like he’s unable to believe it. After how close a call that battle had been, Shiro’s had a difficult time believing it as well. The past few days with the paladins in comas had been rough to say the least.

“I’m here.” He pulls back from the embrace, holds Keith at arm’s length. “I’m so glad you’re alright. I really missed you, Keith.”

Keith sighs, a happy smile breaking onto his face before he leans into Shiro’s embrace again, snuggling closer to him. “I missed you too, Shiro. Feels like it’s been so long since…”

“I’m sorry,” he blurts, heart overcome with emotion as Keith says that. He’d pushed Keith away for so long because he’d been so afraid. He’d hurt him, and he’d almost lost him when the lions had crashed to Earth. “I’m so sorry, Keith.”

“‘s okay,” Keith whispers, voice muffled against Shiro’s shoulder. “Just hold me now. You’re warm.”

He laughs, brushing his fingers through Keith’s hair. “Whatever you want.”

They sit like that for a while, Keith pressed against his chest, arms lazily curled around his waist, breathing soft. For a moment, Shiro wonders if Keith has fallen back asleep among the quiet between them and the steady motion of Shiro’s hand rubbing his back.

“How’s everyone else doing?” Keith breaks the silence between them, but doesn’t make any effort to move away from their close contact. This can’t be all that comfortable for someone who has the type of injuries Keith does, but neither of them want to pull away.

“Everyone’s doing fine, and they’ve been recovering. Honestly, I think they’re starting to get restless, but they’ll be happy to know you’re finally awake.” His hand stops in its path at Keith’s shoulder blades, and moves to his hair instead, fingers brushing against the bandage wrapped around Keith’s head. “You really scared me. All of you were hurt, but Keith… you were pretty bad off. I…”

 

Panic claws its way through his chest, interfering in any logical thought, any desire except to run until he reaches where Black crashed. Until he reaches Keith.

They’d lost communication with all the paladins. No contact, no response. All there had been is the moment when their lions fell back to Earth, then nothing more. It’s the unknown that curls around Shiro’s heart and mind when he runs to Keith, an ominous foreboding in Black’s cockpit when he forces his way inside.

Keith is curled into himself on the ground, unconscious and helmet smashed. His face is littered with scratches and blood—both dry and fresh, caked in his hair and on his skin—and a huge gash on the side of his head bleeds profusely. He looks so small, so helpless compared to the usually strong and unbreakable Keith that always stands before him.

“Keith?” He doesn’t expect an answer to the frantic, choked out whisper, but still hopes, _prays_ for one. Hopes there’s some chance he’ll see Keith’s eyes open and hear the quiet murmur of his voice, rasping out that he’s alright and there’s nothing to worry about.

But only silence engulfs the cockpit. As expected.  

His hands tremble as he feels around for a pulse, a heartbeat, a breath. Anything. Anything that means Keith is still alive. Anything that means he and the other paladins hadn’t sacrificed themselves to save them all. Anything that means Keith will come back to him.

But there’s nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

Until—

Keith’s heartbeat thrums weakly beneath Shiro’s trembling fingers, but it’s there. He’s still alive.

“Stay with me, Keith.” His choked whisper is a cross between a garbled plea and a sob. “I’ve got you.”

He lifts Keith into his arms, careful so not to agitate any injuries, but motions urgent. Keith needs to get to a medic. Shiro won’t let him die in his arms.  

“I’ve got you.” Keith can’t hear the reassurance, but he needs to say it. For himself. For both of them. He won’t let Keith go.

“We’ll take it from here,” the medics tell him, placing a hand on his arm as pry Keith from him and lay him on a stretcher instead. It’s not meant to be comforting. Rather, it’s a wake-up call. An urgent reminder that they need to act fast or he will die.

They pull the helmet from Keith’s head, hands working fast to handle the blood pouring from the wound there. They’re shouting something about blood loss, dolling out instructions for treatment.

“Captain, you need to let go.” The medic tugs at his arm, his hand clasped tight around Keith’s.

He doesn’t want to. He can’t. Not now. Not like this. What if this is the last time…?

 _No._ There are so many things left to say, so many things for him to apologize for. This can’t be the end. _It can’t._

“Keith—!”

He can’t lose Keith. He can’t lose Keith too.

“ _Fight,_ ” he chokes out when an arm around his torso pulls him back, away from the medics. “Please, Keith!”

Keith’s fingers are slack in his grip, slip away as soon as Shiro loosens his grip, as soon as he’s pulled away.

“He’s a fighter.” It’s Iverson’s voice, Iverson’s arm that had finally torn him away from Keith. “Shiro. He’ll make it.”

He has to. Keith has to—

 

“Hey, I’m here,” Keith murmurs. He’s pulled back from the lazy embrace, his hand curled around Shiro’s, tight and reassuring, a contrast to his slack fingers and unmoving hand. Now he’s here and alive, awake and right in front of Shiro rather than an unmoving and barely breathing body laid out on a stretcher. He’s alright.

“I know you are.” He squeezes Keith’s hand once before he pries it from Keith’s grip, moves to cup his cheek instead, thumb tracing over his scar, smiles when he says, “It’s good to have you back.”

“Good to be back,” Keith whispers, leaning into Shiro’s touch. His lips brush against Shiro’s palm when he turns his head.

They both pick up on the intimacy of the motion at the same time, eyes darting away from each other. His cheeks heat up, and his eyes catch the slight flush of Keith’s cheeks when he pulls his hand away.

“Shiro, are we…?” Keith hesitates, unsure of himself before he takes the plunge. “Are we okay?”

“Of course we are.” He leans forward, rests his hand on Keith’s thigh and squeezes gently, punctuation to the insistence. “I know we have a lot we need to talk about. And I promise we will. Right now is about you, though. You need to rest.”

“Good. I… I didn’t want to push you or make you uncomfortable with…” He trails off, starts again. “It’s just… been a while since we’ve had a chance to be like this, I guess. It’s been one thing after another.”

Keith’s sigh of relief is a punch, a reminder of how wrong their conversation on the way back to Earth had gone and how he’d held Keith at such a distance only hurt them both. If things had ended differently here, some of his last interactions with Keith would have ended on a bitter note. If they’d stayed precariously balanced in that limbo, and Keith had been injured worse than he already was, or if he hadn’t survived the battle and that’s how they left things? Shiro would never forgive himself. Never.

“What about you?” Like Keith senses what he’s thinking, he draws Shiro from the dark place his thoughts had been headed. He takes Shiro’s metal hand in his own, cradles it in his hands. “Are you okay?”

A long time ago, he might have been afraid to hold Keith’s hand like this with his Galra arm, might have viewed it as off-putting, a reminder that he’s not the same person who left Earth so long ago. But Keith’s never reacted to any of that—the change in appearance, the new arm, an arm that later tried to kill him, and the whole crashing back on Earth after being presumed dead for a year scenario. He’s always just rolled with it, like nothing’s changed.  

It’s one of those little things, small considerations and actions that Keith has done that helped him, made him feel normal again. Like he belongs somewhere and was still himself, even if things had changed so drastically.

Keith’s fingers curl around Shiro’s metal ones like it’s nothing, unlike how many people might react to touching it. With Keith, it’s as if it’s the most natural thing to do. And although this Altean arm Allura made him his fully his, made and meant for him, and he no longer has to worry about trying to murder someone he loves so completely with it, with anyone else he might hesitate to share an intimate gesture like this.

But Keith is nothing like anyone else. Keith is all his own, one of a kind, irreplaceable. And god, Shiro loves him.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” The fabric of the hospital blanket covering Keith’s thigh scratches against his fingertips. “Much better now that you’re up. Everything has been a lot to handle.”

That’s an understatement, really. Worry and fear have plagued him for days upon days, especially as he’s been torn as the others woke one by one and Keith still remained asleep and unmoving in his hospital bed. Throwing himself into everything he’s been doing since the battle was won has been an attempt at a distraction, and even then, not a very successful one. Large chunks of these days were spent at Keith’s bedside, waiting, hoping he’d wake up.

Keith doesn’t question the lie that Shiro’s been fine, even though he’s likely to know it’s just an empty assurance, changes the subject instead. “I heard your speech on the TV after I woke up.” Keith looks up at him with a grin. “You did good. Just like always.”

“You saw that?” He laughs, a little sheepish from Keith’s praise. “I feel like you’re biased, but thanks.”

He shakes his head. “Nope, no bias here. I just know a good speech when I hear one.”

“This is coming from the same person who always spaced out in class.”

“Classes were boring. _You’re_ different.”

He laughs. “Glad to know I’m more entertaining than your classes here were.”

Keith nods. “For sure. Classes here never taught me to jump off a cliff on a hoverbike.”

They both fall into laughter. Shiro leans his head forward, forehead thumping against Keith’s shoulder. “I think we can both agree that should have been part of the curriculum.”

“Maybe, but then it wouldn’t be our thing.”

“Our thing, huh?” He grins and squeezes Keith’s hand. “You’re right.”

“I think everyone who doubted you back then would be proud to see you now.” Keith’s thumb traces over the back of his prosthetic hand. “I know I’m proud of you.”

 _You always have been, though,_ he wants to say. _You’ve never given up on me._

“I think I already knew you were, but it’s nice to hear you say it.” He smiles, a wave of fondness for Keith overcoming him. It wraps around his entire heart, all-consuming. “I’m proud of you, too, y’know. You’ve really come into your own as the leader of Voltron. Just like I knew you could.”  

“Thanks.” Keith looks down at his lap, soft smile and gentle eyes, a light dusting of red on his cheeks. “I learned from the best.”

“And I had help from someone just as amazing,” he insists. A small tug on Keith’s hand has him leaning back into Shiro’s arms, and wrapped in each other’s embrace again. “I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you, Keith.”

Keith hums an affirmative, curls the fingers of his free hand in the back of Shiro’s shirt. “Me too.”

Silence falls over them again, a comfortable blanket. They’ve earned this, he thinks, closing his eyes. They’ve earned these quiet moments and chance to be together like this after everything. And he could spend the rest of this day with their arms wrapped around each other like this, so long as they’re together.

“Hey, Shiro…?” Keith’s quiet whisper catches him a little of guard. He sounds uncertain, unsure of himself, a stark contrast to the quiet and calm of the conversation before.

“Hm?” Shiro pulls back from the close embrace, just enough to see Keith’s face.

“I’m really sorry… about Adam. I heard…”

His breath hitches. It’s not that this is something he wants to avoid talking about. In all honesty, he thinks he needs closure, to speak about it when there’s no one to speak with. But it hurts. It does. Adam had hurt him. Adam had left a void in Shiro’s chest, a gap in his heart he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to or want to fill again. And that was painful. That hole has slowly patched itself over time, to heal and fill with something new, something budding and beautiful, but he still had loved Adam. Had things turned out different here, it still never would have been the same as it once was, but that doesn’t erase how he once felt long ago.

It’s still painful to lose someone he’d once loved, even if he’d already moved on and things never would have been the same again, anyway.   

“Are you alright?” Keith looks up at him, eyes soft, gentle expression on his face. He curls his hand around Shiro’s arm, brushing his fingertips over it.

“Yes.” Shiro hugs him again. “I will be. Right now it’s just… We didn’t end things on the best of terms, and I feel bad that we never really got that closure.” They’d barely spoken again after that final fight they had months before Kerberos. Just once or twice when Adam had moved out of their shared space. And then Shiro had gone to Kerberos and never looked back. He hates that they left things on such a bad foot. “We may have not been in a good place after ending things, but I still always wanted him to be happy.”

And he hopes Adam had been in the time between their break-up and before he’d been killed in a sacrifice he’d made to protect Earth from the Galra. He just hates that things ended this way for him, guilt pricking at his heart over it all, that so many here had died and they hadn’t been here to stop it.   

“He made you happy,” Keith murmurs, still rubbing Shiro’s arm gently.

“Yeah, a long time ago. We’d been falling apart long before we officially ended it.” For a long time, he was never able to think about Adam without hurt accompanying those thoughts. Now, when he looks back it’s just regret that intertwines with those memories. Not regret at losing what they’d had—that had been a long time coming and for the best; he’d never go back and change that—but regret that they’d never gotten closure, that they had never apologized to each other for how things ended on such a bitter note.

“I’m alright,” he assures Keith. “I will be. I feel better actually talking about it with you instead of keeping it to myself. So, thanks for being here and listening.”

“Always.” Keith whispers against his shoulder. After a moment, he yawns, and Shiro can imagine his eyes fluttering shut as he tries to stay awake. Keith’s tired. Of course he is. He’d just woken up from a coma, is still recovering from traumatic injuries. Being awake even this short amount of time has probably been draining.  

“You should get some rest.” His fingers curl in the ends of Keith’s hair, brush over the nape of his neck.

Keith shakes his head against Shiro’s shoulder, defiant. “I just woke up.”

“As much as I’d love to have you fall asleep against my shoulder, I don’t think it’s best for someone recovering from a head injury.”

Keith huffs, a mix between a laugh and fond exasperation. Shiro can imagine the roll of his eyes.  “I’m the one in the hospital, aren’t I? You should spoil me a little.”

“Not when your health is at stake.” He pulls back from their embrace, brushes his fingers against the bandage on Keith’s head before he moves to cup his cheek. “Keith, there’s… there’s so much I want to say to you. And if you’re up to it, we’ll talk after you get some sleep.”

He nods. “‘course I’m up for it.

There are a lot of things he needs to tell Keith. But mostly, he needs to apologize for everything he’s put Keith through, for pushing him so far away. Needs to make sure Keith knows just how important he is to Shiro, how much he means to him.

He smiles, hand resting on Keith’s shoulder to help ease him back against the pillows. “Then get some rest, okay? I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

“You’d better be.” Keith’s eyes flutter shut, blinking between consciousness and sleep as he tries to force himself to stay awake and talk. His fingers curl around Shiro’s wrist when he pulls his hand away from Keith’s cheek, and he pulls his hand to his face again.

He laughs, and brushes his knuckles against Keith’s face, stroking it gently to keep the contact between them. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good,” Keith whispers, shifting his palm to press against Shiro’s instead. The lines of their palms always line up perfectly. It’s exhilarating and terrifying.

 _I love you._ The feeling’s so overwhelming, he almost blurts it out right then and there, something that’s been contained for so long it needs to be said aloud, needs to be heard.

“Hey, Keith?”

“Hm?”

“I…” He trails off, loses his courage when Keith’s eyes flutter open to look at him. “I’m glad you’re here.”

The smile he gets in return is beautiful, sleepy. “I’m glad you’re here too, Shiro.” When Keith’s breathing evens out, his face relaxed, Shiro leans forward, draws their connected hands to his lips, kisses Keith’s fingertips. “Rest well.”

 

**_iii._ **

 

A familiar pressure, a pleasant touch envelopes his hand, warm and affectionate. Like the sun beating down on him.

“Keith?”

“You’re still here.”

He smiles. “I told you I would be.”

“I know.” Keith smiles, brushes his thumb over the back of Shiro’s hand. “Can’t be comfortable to sleep in that chair, though.”

He’d barely noticed, really. Sleep hasn’t been something that’s come easily recently, so he’ll take what he can get where he can get it.

“You should at least sit on the bed with me. Or take some pillows.”

“No way. Those pillows are yours. No one is touching them.”

Keith snorts. “Fine. Come here, then?”

Shiro nods, lets Keith tug on his hand, pulling him closer to the bed where they sit facing each other, legs curled under him. Keith doesn’t let go of Shiro’s hand, and honestly, Shiro doesn’t want him to. His touch is always comforting, grounding.

“Feel any better?”

“My head feels better than this afternoon, but it still feels like someone dropped me off the top of a building.”

“Well, you’re not wrong about that.” It’s actually worse than that. “It’ll take some time for you all to recover, but I’m glad you’re doing better. And that you’re finally awake. I thought…”

They’d been through this earlier, but it still sticks in his mind, a feeling he can’t shake no matter how much he tries. He’d almost lost Keith.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” Keith mumbles. He smiles when Shiro looks up at him, downplaying the gravity of it. “A crash isn’t going to keep me down for long.”

He laughs softly, relief washing over him. “Yeah, I can buy that. You’re the strongest person I know.”

Keith shakes his head. “No, that’s easily you. You’re the strongest person I know. And the best. I… You…”

 _I love every piece of you_ , Shiro wants to say. _I love you so much, and I wish I was strong enough to say that._

“Shiro, I’m sorry.”

That surprises him. An apology out of nowhere like this. “Sorry? What for?”

“Really?” Keith’s look hardens into a poor attempt at a glare. But he looks tired, scared, but determined to say what he needs to. “Don’t pretend you don’t know.”

Yeah. Yeah, pretending everything was as it has always been is what’s got them in this balance anyway—the teetering balance of Shiro wanting to admit how much he loves Keith to fearing that exact feeling he wants to revel in resulting in pushing Keith further and further away. No pretending. Only honesty. He knows Keith wants to talk about this. And this time, Shiro does too. They owe each other that. They owe each other this chance when war could have easily torn it out from under them and nearly had.

This is a conversation that’s been a long time coming.

“I… I don’t want to lose you,” Keith mutters, his hand slipping in Shiro’s, grip no longer tight. “I shouldn’t have pushed you to talk about everything when you weren’t ready.”

“Hey…” Shiro squeezes his hand, thumb brushing over the back of it. “You’re not going to lose me. Even if I can’t promise you anything else, I can promise you that. I am so lucky to have you in my life, Keith. And I messed up. I’m the one who pushed you away. I’m sorry I did. I thought if I pushed you away you’d be better off.”

He doesn’t want to lose Keith either. Can’t. And he’d known that before, had known it deep in his heart, but the guilt of giving Keith that scar, of nearly getting him killed had made him step away. The fear of having Keith so close, close enough to hold in his arms, to love, to be so vulnerable and open made him want to run rather than step into everything he’s wanted.

Keith frowns, brows furrowed as he processes Shiro’s words. “Why would you think that?”

He’d always struggled with that. Vulnerability. Opening up. Leaning on others. Putting up a mask of perfection and confidence and certainty to hide all that he lacked in that on the inside. That might be where he and Adam started to drift—not because Shiro didn’t trust and love him, but because in the wake of everything facing him, everything thrown upon his shoulders, he couldn’t come to terms with being so vulnerable, with appearing weak. Kerberos had been the final push to crack what they once had.

God, it’s _still_ something he struggles with. This whole mess of miscommunication is proof of that.  

But the constricting panic in his chest as he ran to where Black—Keith—had crashed, his trembling hands as he’d pulled Keith’s battered and bloodied body into his arms, uncertain if he’d live as he carried him to safety all while he could feel him fading away is something he never wants to experience again, something that’s a double-edged sword because how much he loves and cherishes Keith would be exhilarating to gain, agonizing to lose.

“It’s not you, Keith. It’s me. I… I’m a mess. I’m…” He hangs his head. “I’ll mess this up. Just like everything else.” Just like he’d nearly killed Keith. Just like he’d dragged Earth into the Galra’s radar by going to Kerberos in the first place—how that set off a chain of events leading them to all of this mess. All those innocent people who perished in Sendak’s invasion… Adam… it’s all his fault. “And I don’t want to mess this up because it’s you and I—”

“Shiro…” Keith leans forward now, hands cupping his cheeks. He doesn’t push, doesn’t force Shiro to look at him. That’s the nice thing about Keith—someone who is made of so many rough edges, but is soft in all the right places. Accommodating. Someone who feels and loves with his entire heart, his entire being. “Please. Don’t blame yourself for…”

“How can I not?”

“You shouldn’t. You’re the reason we’re all here. You’re the reason we all found each other and even met Allura. You’re the reason _I’m_ here.” Keith sighs. “I don’t know where I’d be if I never met you. I don’t want to think about it. You saved me.”

“What about you? You saved me. Time and time again. I can never repay you for that, Keith.” It’s true. If they were to measure how many times Keith has saved Shiro against the time Shiro had saved Keith, they don’t equal. Keith’s love and devotion and kindness has all stemmed from Shiro reaching out to him, promising he would never give up on the boy who had reminded him of himself. It feels like it doesn’t compare to Keith flying through a wormhole to chase after his clone. It feels like it doesn’t compare to Keith refusing to let him go as they dangled from the unstable platform breaking to pieces beneath them. It feels like it doesn’t compare to Keith’s willingness to fall to his death rather than let Shiro go. “And I thanked you by pushing you away and trying to avoid everything. I’m so sorry. And if you can’t get past that, I don’t blame you. I’m the one who—”

“You would have done the same for me.” Keith makes it sound so, so agonizingly simple. Like it’s the greatest truth in the universe. “You promised you’d never give up on me, and I’ll never give up on you.”

He rests his forehead against Keith’s, hands trailing down his forearms in a barely there touch as Shiro squeezes his eyes shut tight. Mostly because it holds back the sting of tears—he doesn’t know how long he can hold them off if he looks directly into Keith’s eyes, at all the brightness and warmth surrounding him—but he’s also afraid of what he’ll see.

There’s no one other than Keith he’d trust with this side of himself, this rawness, open and vulnerable in a way he would never show the world. But Keith is different. Keith’s been at the epicenter of his world for a while now, never too far behind nor too far ahead. He’s always been at Shiro’s side, always reaches out a hand to pull them back together when it seems the universe wants nothing more than to tear them apart.   

People always leave. People have always doubted him, given up on him.

Keith’s the only one who never has.

He loves Keith. With his entire heart. With every piece of himself. And it’d taken a long time to realize what that meant, how strongly his feelings for his best friend run, but he doesn’t want to just jump in. Not like this.

He’s terrified, has been for a long time. But for Keith he knows he wants to try.

“Keith?”

“Hm?” He opens his eyes, meets Shiro’s own with a smile and a squeeze to the hand his fingers are curled around. “Shiro?”

“I should have told you this after everything, but… you’re so important to me. And… and I want to do this right.” He can finally admit that to himself. His eyes slide down to his lap where Keith’s hand wrapped around his own, gentle. His chest aches again, like someone’s squeezing his heart, like Keith is squeezing his heart. “I know it’s not fair for me to ask, but will you…?”

Keith’s hand settles on his cheek, warm, inviting, everything Shiro thinks he could want if he wasn’t so afraid of fully taking it. “Shiro… stop.”

So that’s it then. He’d thrown his shot at this away, pushed Keith too far out of his orbit that he wouldn’t come back this time, wouldn’t—

“You’re thinking too hard. It’s like I can hear you.” Keith’s finger taps the side of his head, a gentle drum against it, and when Shiro glances at his face he’s met with soft eyes and a smile—patience, understanding. “Please don’t worry.”

It’s like he unravels right there. After days, months, of being wound so tightly. With just a few words, it’s as if all the tension has slipped from his body, faded away and he can breathe again. So, of course, he spits out the most inopportune joke he could at the moment, “Coma do that to you?”

Keith lets out a surprised snort at the sudden joke. “Nah, I think it’s just a me thing. Don’t want to test it to find out, though.” He pokes at Shiro’s forehead again. “And don’t you try to test it out either.”

He breathes out a laugh. “Can do.”   

Keith smiles, looks down at their hands and flips his palm over. Shiro doesn’t hesitate on winding his fingers through Keith’s. Keith squeezes his hand, looks back up at him, eyes holding all the kindness and love Shiro could ever ask for.  “I understand. And I’ll wait. As long as you need to figure things out. I’m just… I’m happy you’re here. I don’t know what I’d do if…”

Tears sting at the back of his eyes, a burn, an ache in his chest. Keith is offering him more than he deserves. He’s being selfless again, putting his own wants and feelings second to Shiro’s. Again and again. “I don’t deserve…”

“Yes, you do.” Keith pulls back from the hug, hands resting on Shiro’s shoulders, pushing him away so they’re face to face again. So he can no longer mumble his fears into Keith’s shoulder, has to say them to his face. “You’re worth it.”

He laughs, a bitter puff of breath. “Doesn’t feel like it.”

Keith squeezes his shoulder, disapproving of the self-deprecation, but also comforting, reassuring. “I mean it. And my feelings for you aren’t going to change because you ask me to wait. You’ve been through hell, Shiro. You’ve barely had time to recover. I don’t want you to choose this because you feel guilty or like you have to. I want you to do it because you want this too.”

“Thank you.” He leans closer, brushes his lips against Keith’s forehead. “For everything.”

 _I love you._ It’d be so easy to say, so easy to finally speak aloud. He could finally make that feeling known to Keith, could finally, _finally_ kiss him after everything they’ve been through. Keith’s eyes would light up with happiness, he can see it now, can imagine the quiet murmur of an _I love you too_.

It’s easy, the next natural step in the progression of their time together, but they agreed to take it slow. War really isn’t the time to move slow, but Keith is right. They’ve both been through a lot with barely any time to recover. They deserve to take their time with this.

“Hey Shiro?”

“Hm?”

Keith pulls back from their embrace, looks up at him. “Back in the Black lion you asked me a question. I didn’t say it because we were fighting, then, but I have the answer.”

Guilt twists in his gut. He’d said some terrible things to Keith, then. Things he regrets. Things he said in the heat of the moment because he was scared and confused. Things Keith didn’t deserve to hear. “You don’t have to…”

“I’d find another way,” Keith whispers, determined look in his eyes. It’s a promise, an insistence rather than a hypothetical answer to an equally hypothetical question.

The fire in his eyes, the hard-set determination is stunning. Beautiful, inspiring. “And… and if there was no other way?”

“You know I’d never give up on you.” Keith cups his cheek, draws their foreheads together into a gentle touch. “I’d find a way to bring you back.”

His heart squeezes in his chest. It’s a vow to do the impossible, to take on anything that stands in the way of their happiness, such a strong level of devotion not only in the words, but exemplified in all of Keith’s actions.

“I’d find a way to bring you back,” he repeats, slow, quiet. He feels the same. Of course he does. “Let’s hope it never comes down to that.”

Keith nods, and wraps his hands around Shiro’s. “Yeah. But I just wanted you to know…”

He knows. Knows and feels the same. Whatever comes next, they will face it together, side by side. “I know. I feel the same.”  

“Stay?” Keith asks, tugging on his hand, a change in pace from the heaviness of the conversation. There is still so much ahead of them, but just for a moment, for this evening, maybe they don’t have to think about that.  

“I don’t know if the nurses are going to like me breaking protocol and staying overnight.” He laughs, because despite the protest, he really doesn’t want to leave Keith. Not now. Not when they’ve just settled things between them to a steady and stable pace. “It’s already past visiting hours.”

“Where’s the fun in being an officer if you can’t break the rules every once in a while? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten your rule-breaking ways.”

He laughs. “I’m just wondering what people will say if the leader of Voltron and Captain of the Atlas are found in the same bed in the morning.”

“Who cares? I just woke up today. Let me have you to myself before everyone takes up your time planning our next step.”

He nods, doesn’t resist when Keith tugs on his hand gently, pulls him down against the tiny hospital bed. It’s cramped, tight, but he doesn’t mind it. It’s not like the time they shared a bed while traveling back to Earth. This time, Shiro’s not trying to keep his distance, despite craving the closeness. This time, he’s not pushing Keith away, panicking when they get too close, scrambling trying to keep that gap.

They’ve found each other again, and he won’t let go so easily. They’ll take things slow, move at their own pace just like they always have.

“You still owe me a race when this is all over,” Keith mumbles against his shoulder once they’ve settled, his voice cutting through the nighttime quiet, the gentle whir of the machines in the room.

Fondness curls around his heart, squeezes tightly. He loves Keith. He loves Keith so, so much and he never wants to let this feeling go. He never wants to let Keith go. “That’s what you’re thinking about when you’re lying in a hospital bed?”

“No, I’m thinking about a lot more than that.” He can practically feel Keith’s grin against him. His fingers curl in Keith’s hair. It’s nice to think of him smiling again, after everything they’ve been through. “But you still owe me.”

“I will gladly race you when this is all over. I promise to kick your ass.”

“You wish, Shiro.” Keith’s smile is beautiful, even in the dark of the room, illuminated by the blue light of Shiro’s arm. “I’m winning this one.”

He laughs and pulls Keith back into his arms. “Whatever you say, Keith.”

  


_**iv.** _

 

“Doing okay?” Shiro asks when he looks up from the plans laid out on the table and catches Keith not paying them any attention. He looks distant, faraway as he stares at the wall. They are the last two in the conference room, opting to stay here for a little longer together after everyone else had scattered to run through some things—their departure from Earth is only a week out, and it still feels like they will never be prepared enough for what lies ahead.

Keith snaps back to attention at his question, pulling his eyes from the wall to look at Shiro instead. “Yeah, it’s just… this is really happening, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. It is.” Hard to believe that after everything, they’re almost there. These will be their most dangerous battles yet, but once they get through them, they’ll be closer to peace for the entire universe than they ever had before.

And they’ve been through it all together.

“Didn’t think going to Kerberos would bring us here.” He could never have predicted stepping foot on that rocket would lead to all of this. And despite everything, he wouldn’t change a bit, even the painful pieces.

They’re so close to putting an end to this war. Just a little more lies ahead. It will be dangerous, terrifying, but they have to face it. And they’ll be ready. This time, they’ll be ready to put an end to what Haggar has planned.

“Me neither,” Keith mumbles. When Shiro looks at him, his eyes are on the floor, fists clenched at his side.

Shiro turns, steps closer and puts a hand on Keith’s waist. “Hey, talk to me.” _Tell me what’s wrong._

Keith takes a deliberate breath. Like he’s going to say something, something important. But he pauses, the silence, although really not very long-lasting, seeming to coexist with their beating hearts for an eternity.

“You… you died, Shiro.” It’s the first time that Keith has voiced that beyond the brief moment they’d spoke of it in the astral plane.

He hates how much his death affected Keith. He’d seen it firsthand, or experienced it, really, because while within the Black lion’s consciousness, Keith’s grief had been visceral, a sharp stab, twist of the knife, that hurt him more than anything. He never wants to see Keith in that type of pain again, doesn’t want to experience that type of pain.

“I’m here now.” The assurance is punctuated with a squeeze to Keith’s hip.

“I know,” Keith whispers. He lifts his hand, falters for a moment, before he presses his trembling fingers to Shiro’s cheek. “ _I know_. But… I’m afraid.”

“That makes two of us.”

Acknowledging their fears acts as a testament to what lies ahead—the unknown, unquestionable danger, their most difficult battle yet. It’s terrifying. But it’s something they have to face if they want any hope of peace.

He catches Keith’s hand before he can pull it away, covers it with his own and holds it to his cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Keith’s breath of laughter has the slightest edge of bitterness to it. “I’d ask you to promise, but the last time we did that didn’t turn out so well.”

He gets it. He does. Someone like Keith, who has lost people close to him too often doesn’t want to hear things like I promise I won’t leave. I promise I’ll come back. Because how many times have those sentiments been crumpled up and thrown in his face? Too many. Shiro doesn’t blame him for disliking those promises.

“I can’t… I can’t lose you again, Shiro.” Keith starts, tightening his grip around Shiro’s waist. “Don’t make me a promise you can’t guarantee you’ll keep.” It would kill me, goes unspoken. That goes both ways. They both know. Not again.

Except he doesn’t intend to leave. He doesn’t intend to leave Keith. Something that had once seemed to be a resounding, resolute _never_ has transformed to _always_ , and an always with Keith, a forever, is all Shiro ever wants. Keith needs to know that.

“Keith.” He tilts Keith’s head up to meet his eyes. “I…”

“Knock, knock!”

Keith groans. “Go away, Lance.”

Lance pokes his head in the doorway. “Rude!”

Pidge pokes her head in as well. “Yeah, Keith. Rude.” She pauses, cracking a grin when she spots Shiro and Keith standing what’s probably way closer than necessary when supposedly working out strategy logistics for their departure from Earth back to space next week. “ _Oh_ , are we interrupting something? We can come back later.”

“You know you’re not.” Shiro doesn’t like how Keith’s lips fall into a frown at the loss of contact when they pull their hands away from each other and take a step back. He misses the contact too, and the duo’s teasing is worth the warmth against his hand, but for their own peace of mind, taking a step back is enough for now. “Did you guys need something?”

“Hmmm, feels like you don’t want us here.” Lance steps into the room now from where he and Pidge had been lingering in the doorway, shoots them a knowing grin. “Sure we’re not interrupting anything? Anything at all?”

“Kinda defeats the purpose of asking if he just walks in here instead of leaving,” Keith mutters. It’s mostly directed at Shiro, and he tries to keep his laughter quiet, nudges Keith’s ankle with his own like they’re two kids who have been caught breaking the rules and are trying to keep out of trouble.

Pidge snickers behind her hand while Lance narrows his eyes, glaring at them suspiciously. “You _sure_ you’re not hiding anything?”

“No, Lance, we’re not hiding anything,” Shiro says, steering the conversation away from them. “So, what was it you needed?”

Lance waves his hand dismissively at Shiro’s words, like he wants to argue, but he still follows the flow of conversation anyway, finally getting to the point. “We were just stopping by to see if you want to go to the carnival with us.”

“That carnival Coran talked about during breakfast?”

“Oh wow, I didn’t think you were paying attention at breakfast. It’s easy to miss things when you’re constantly making goo goo eyes at each other.” Pidge leans against the wall, smug.  

“We were not—” They both start at the same time, which sends their teammates into a fit of giggles.

“Keep telling yourselves that, guys.”

Lance continues, “We’re taking my niece and nephew, and Hunk’s too. Wanted to invite everyone to have a piece of the fun, though. Y’know, before we leave.”

It’s been an unspoken concern, an unspoken fear that they might not make it back from the fight with Haggar and the fractured Galra empire. If the robeast they’d faced after Sendak was any indication of what’s to come, then they’ll have a hell of a fight ahead of them.  

“You and Pidge racing down the hospital halls on your IV carts wasn’t fun enough for you?”

Lance scoffs. “Really, Shiro? We’ve been out of the hospital for weeks, and that was _work_. We were testing the efficiency of Garrison equipment.”

Pidge nods. “Totally. Efficiency is important.”

Lance nods. “Oh, definitely. We were doing everyone a favor, really.”

“Sure, you were.”

“Hunk still maintains that that race is the reason we got released from the hospital to go home.” Pidge looks thoughtful. “He’s probably right, but he’s the one who called our race.”

“Little does he know we’ve done it since.” Lance snickers. “Serves him right to have secrets kept from him anyway because he’s a bad judge. He always said you won, Pidge.”

“Um, because I did always win.” She grins. “When are you gonna get that through your head?”

“I will contest this until we have an official rematch.”

“Guys, you aren’t sneaky.” Keith crosses his arms over his chest. “We know you did that every time you came to visit any of us that were still in the hospital.”

The two in question share a look and then shrug. “So, you coming or what? Hunk’s in, and Allura and Romelle are gonna catch up later after they finish something.”

“We haven’t had a break in a while,” Shiro says after a moment. “We’re leaving in a week, but…”

Everyone’s been a little on edge as their time to leave Earth again approaches. A distraction might be good for all of them.

He looks at Keith, who still stands a little tense, a little closed off. Maybe this would be for the best.

“I’m in if you are,” Keith answers when their eyes meet, lips turning upward into a small smile.

He smiles back. “Sure. We’ll go.”

Lance high fives Pidge, and she shoots them a thumbs up before the two clamber out of the room. “Nice! We gotta go get the kids, but meet us outside in ten minutes.”

.

 

“Remind me how we got stuck as glorified babysitters again?”

“Lance and Pidge tricked us,” Keith grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. His gaze meets Shiro’s for a moment before flitting back to Lance and Hunk’s nieces and nephews on the kiddie roller coaster. “We’ll be back in five minutes my ass.”

Shortly after arriving here, Hunk had left the group, telling them Shay was going to be around and he wanted to go find her with the promise they’d catch back up with them later. Which had been fine, because Allura, Romelle, and Coran were supposed to be arriving shortly anyway. And Lance and Pidge still were in charge of the kids.

That is, until Pidge got distracted by some booth. They thought they’d lost her until she came running back with the intensity of someone on an important mission, grabbed Lance by the sleeve and told him she needed his help. The two ran off to who knows where, asking Keith and Shiro to keep an eye on the kids with the promise they’d be back in five minutes. Which had also been fine.

Until they didn’t come back.

“It’s been over half an hour. I don’t even want to think about what they’re doing.” Shiro groans. He’s not imagining the whole carnival going up in flames or anything, but…

Okay, maybe that’s exactly what he’s imagining. There hasn’t really been a concrete outlet for their mischief-making until now. This could blow up into a disaster.

“Last time we left them alone that long in a public place, they came back with a cow.”

“Well, at least you can’t get a cow at a carnival.” Can you?

Keith snorts. “If anyone would find a way, it’s them.”

He cringes as he imagines another cow living with Kaltenecker on the Atlas. Cows and mice and space wolves aren’t exactly the weirdest parts of this adventure, but then again, nothing surrounding this whole thing ever seems to be normal. “You’re not wrong.”

Keith turns to face Shiro now, smiling. “Well, I’ve never babysat anyone before, but at least you’re not such a bad person to get stuck doing this with.”

He laughs, pushing Keith’s shoulder, teasing. “Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself.”

In all of this, he had been hoping to spend some alone time with Keith. So much of their time has been spent getting ready for their upcoming departure to space again that their schedules had been jam packed. Part of the reason he’d agreed to the idea to come here was to get a chance to be alone with Keith for an extended period of time spent on something that wasn’t related to saving the universe.

Except, it seems like the universe has other plans for them. And Pidge and Lance—and Hunk, since he’s the first one who ran off to find Shay—are partially to blame for that since they left them alone with the kids they had volunteered to take here.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Keith asks, shooting him a grin.

“If you’re thinking we should still have fun even if they left us to babysit, then yes, we’re on the same page.”

“Knew I could count on you, Shiro.”

Spending the day with four kids isn’t exactly how he imagined this going, but they can make that work despite the way the cards fell.  

“Let’s go play the water gun game!” Hunk’s nephew jumps up and down at Keith’s side, tugging on his sleeve the moment the kids run over to them after they get off the ride.

“Yeah!”

“Sure.” Keith shrugs. But when he turns around, he smacks into a robot that definitely was not there a moment ago.

“What the hell?!” Keith’s automatic response is to punch the thing, which teeters back and forth, on the verge of falling until—

“What the _heck_ , Keith!” Lance dives in—another appearance as out of nowhere as this robot he’s protecting—and grabs onto the robot to hold it steady. He emphasizes the kid friendly version of what Keith had said, a reminder that there are children in their presence. “Why did you punch it?!”

“I don’t know, maybe because it was right on top of me?”

Pidge runs over, sliding in between Keith and the robot, protective. “Keep your hands off the precious merchandise, Keith!”

“… Precious merchandise?” Shiro questions.

“ _It_ was right on top of _me,_ Pidge. I don’t get how this is my fault,” Keith complains, crossing his arms over his chest.

“He’s just being dramatic!” Lance rests a hand on the robot’s shoulder, kind of like you would for a long-lost friend. “What would you have done if _I_ popped up behind you?”

Before Keith can answer with the inevitable _“I’d punch you too,”_ Shiro cuts in clamping a hand down on Keith’s shoulder. “Okay, enough. Where’d you get that robot, Lance?”

Lance looks ready to launch into a long story, which means the answer is probably not a simple one, but Pidge jumps up, clamping a hand over his mouth. When she hits the ground again, Lance falls down to her level due to the arm wrapped around his neck—a ridiculously funny sight, especially with a robot standing between them like a child.

“We shouldn’t share that information yet,” she hisses, but it’s not quiet at all. Anyone close by can hear her whisper. “Not until we know it’s safe.”

Safe?

All of this is starting to make sense.

“So, did that robot come free with purchase?” Shiro asks, trying to hold back his laughter. “Or did you get it by some other means?” That explains why they were gone for so long, at least.

Pidge looks away from Lance, pulls her arm from his shoulder so he can straighten back up to his full height, and narrows her eyes at Shiro. “You be quiet, Shiro.”

“ _Wait_ … you stole that robot?” Keith asks as he picks up on what Shiro had been getting at and their reaction. “Really, guys?”

“Look!” Lance throws his hands up in the air. “Before you can start throwing accusations around, I’ll just say that we paid for this fair and square! The clerk tried to scam us out of our prize!”

Pidge nods. “So we _might_ have taken matters into our own hands.”

“I don’t get it,” Keith begins. “Who cares if you got scammed? It’s just a stupid prize.”

“Just a stupid prize?!” Lance clamps his hands over the robot’s ears, like hearing Keith’s words might offend it. “Really, Keith?”

“Wow, Keith, way to go. No one calls _you_ a stupid prize.”

“Because I’m not a carnival prize?”

“ _Yeah_ , as far as _we_ know you’re not!” Lance uncovers the robot’s ears, and pulls it back, further away from Keith.

“How does that even make sense?”

“It just does!”

Keith groans. “What’s so special about that robot anyway? Does it talk or something?”

“Oh, it talks alright. Just not to you.”

Pidge snickers at Lance’s joke. “It’s state of the art tech. I had to have it.”  

Lance throws his arms across her shoulders and the robot’s, pulling them into a makeshift group hug. “And now you do.”

Before anyone can respond to that, a loud yell cuts through the crowd, someone running toward their little group. “You crazy kids! Come back here with that robot!”

“Uh… bye, guys!” Lance grabs Pidge by the hand, and she grabs the robot’s hand. They take off in a run. “We have a… a thing to take care of!”

“Yeah! If anyone asks, you didn’t see anything!”

“Wait, so you’re just going to leave us with the kids you promised to take here?”

“You guys are doing a great job!” Pidge calls over her shoulder.

Lance shoots them a thumbs up. “Total naturals! And remember, you didn’t see anything!”

A beat of silence settles between them for a moment as they watch Pidge and Lance disappear into a crowd, the robot trailing behind them as Pidge drags it along.

“I can’t believe they stole a robot,” Shiro mutters, shaking his head.  

“I just… don’t wanna know and I’m not gonna ask.” Keith shakes his head, pulling his eyes away from the sight of Pidge and Lance disappearing into the crowd with a robot trailing behind them. “It’s better that way.”

“True.” He grins, pushing that whole exchange out of his head. If Lance and Pidge left them with the task of babysitting, they might as well enjoy it.  

“Hey, I’d love to give that spinning ride a whirl.” Keith looks to the kids. “If you all are okay with that?”

“Only if you spin us really fast!” Lance’s niece runs ahead of them, the others shouting their approval and following her lead.

“That can definitely be arranged.” Their fingers brush as they follow the kids to the ride. Keith’s smiling at Shiro, but he looks a little hesitant. Looks like he wants to ask, _is this okay?_

 _Of course._ His answer is to catch Keith’s fingers between his own. Yes, this is okay. It’s more than okay. All he’s wanted is to see Keith relax and let loose a little, especially after their conversation earlier. Today, they’re both doing that.

“You still have these?” Shiro asks, running his thumb over the back of Keith’s glove.

“‘course I do.” He tangles his fingers with Shiro’s. “They were a gift from someone pretty important to me.”

Before Kerberos. It seems so faraway, almost like another lifetime. But the memory of night before the launch and handing Keith a package with the gloves in question inside sticks out clear in his mind. “You gonna introduce me to him sometime?”

Keith laughs. “I think you already know each other pretty well, Shiro. Although, he might have been cooler than you.”  

“Wow, Keith, way to break a guy’s heart. Thought you were my friend.”

Keith laughs, loud and without inhibitions, grinning as he bumps Shiro’s shoulder with his own. “You’re too much.”

“Me? I think it’s you who’s too much.”

“Think you can spin faster than me?” Keith swings their connected hands between them, experimental, smile on his lips.

“Is that a challenge?”

“Always.”

“Prepare to lose, then.” He swings their hands now, slightly higher than Keith had a moment before, a challenge.

“No way. This one’s mine.” And he drags Shiro forward to catch up with the kids.

 

.

 

“He’s good at every game,” Lance’s niece whispers to Shiro in awe as Keith wins another prize, this one for her brother.

“He is,” Shiro agrees. It feels stupid to experience this sense of pride at Keith being so good at something as silly as a carnival game, but he does. He’d chalk it up to still being dizzy from the spinning ride, but that had been ages ago, even though he can still feel the press of Keith’s thigh against his own when he slid from his seat and bumped into Shiro. He’d wrapped his arm around Keith’s shoulders, pulling him closer, and they’d been unable to stop laughing, breathless as Keith leaned against his chest and the kids screamed with laughter in the cart with them.

Yeah, he’s definitely still dizzy. Explains the warmth and the lightheadedness and why he can’t keep his eyes off Keith.

They’ve gone on a couple of rides, but now have been trading turns playing different games to get prizes for the kids, who have been cheering them on excitedly and reaping the benefits of their wins.

“You’re good too,” Lance’s niece informs Shiro before she jumps up to claim the next prize.

He laughs at the approval. “Thanks.”

Keith’s grinning, when Shiro steps up to his side, as he aims to throw the ball at another target. “I think we’ve officially got the seal of approval from them.”

“Didn’t think that’s something I could say I’d expected from today.” They share a smile. “Kids don’t hate us. Guess we can call that a win.”

“Yeah,” Shiro agrees. “Didn’t think that’s how today would go, but here we are.”

“Here we are,” Keith repeats. “Yeah.”

“I gotta say, I was a little surprised you agreed to go so easily.” But he’s glad they agreed to it. This has been fun. It’s been exactly what they needed.

Keith’s shoulders lift in a shrug. “Lance and Pidge usually have terrible ideas, but we are leaving in a few days. And at least I got to spend the time with you.” A thoughtful pause before he tacks on, “… and these kids.”

“You’re pretty good with them.”

“I’ve still got some surprises up my sleeve.” He laughs, and turns the ball over in his hand before throwing it, knocking down the pyramid of bottles. “I guess it’s a good thing. Maybe.”

“Hm? Why do you say that?”

“My mom and Kolivan are a couple.”

“That’s… that’s an interesting development.”

“You can admit that it really isn’t.” Keith grins, throwing a look over at Shiro before he takes his next turn. “I’ve been expecting it for a while.”

“Okay, you’re right, it really isn’t that surprising.”

And it isn’t. Anyone with eyes could tell Krolia and Kolivan had grown closer since returning to Earth. They’re never far from each other, an obvious pair rather than two single units.   

“She asked me for my blessing the other day. I don’t know why, because it’s really none of my business and I’d never say no anyway. She deserves to be happy after everything she’s been through. They both do.” Keith shrugs. “And I’m happy for them. The prospect of maybe having some brothers and sisters somewhere down the line is a scary thought, though. Don’t know if I can handle babysitting like this all the time.”

He laughs, doesn’t think until he’s already blurted out, “Yeah. What about if you have your own kids, though?”  

A strangled, garbled sound escapes Keith’s mouth, and the ball flies out of his hand much too quickly, a sharp change from his usual perfect aim.  

Hunk’s niece squeals with laughter as the clerk ducks down from Keith’s throw, completely off target.

“Sorry!” Shiro amends, the feeling of embarrassment from the words and Keith’s reaction whacking him over the head quickly and all at once. “Sorry!”

“No, it’s fine, I—” Keith trails off. “I guess I haven’t thought that far ahead. For the longest time, I wasn’t sure where I’d end up.”  

He can relate. Imagining a future where he could have anything he wanted, where he didn’t have to choose between his dreams and his health, himself and people he cares about, seemed like a dream in and of itself. A dream he’d never get to have.

But everything’s different now. And a future like one he’d never even dared to dream of sits just out of reach. Keith, everything about Keith, spurns those thoughts on, make him want to believe in anomalies he’d never considered for himself before.

Keith hands another prize he’d won to Hunk’s niece, who runs off to join her brother and Lance’s niece and nephew at the next game booth, before he turns to look at Shiro again. “I don’t know… I guess I’d never thought much about a future. Never expected it to be much. I never even had any real friends. Until you.”

The reminder of that truth always hurts, a pang deep down in his heart. For so long, Keith had been alone. For so long, he’d never let himself open up to others. He’d been denied so much, and only just started to gain some of those things people take for granted back now.

“You want to hear a secret?” He pulls Keith out of the way of the booth when he notices the clerk and the people behind them getting frustrated at them standing there despite being done playing. “I didn’t really, either.”

Keith frowns, almost like he doesn’t want to believe what Shiro’s saying, but doesn’t question it. “People loved you. They still do.”

“None of them were real friends.” And it’s true. Not many people had been. Popularity may be something that’s always followed him around, but with the exception of Adam and Matt? None of them had been true friends—not even close. If anything, he’d always kept his distance from people, or anyone who got close enough would always leave once they found out about his sickness. “Not like you.”

“I was just some dumb scrappy kid you picked up,” Keith mutters, gaze dropping down to his feet. “But you changed my whole life. None of this would be possible if it weren’t for you, Shiro. Guess I wouldn’t have expected back then that’d you become my best friend.”

“You’re mine, too,” he says, voice lifting in a teasing lilt as he says, “My one and only.”

“You’re so embarrassing.” Keith lets out an exaggerated groan, punching Shiro’s shoulder, flush on his cheeks. “I think the others might be upset if they heard you say that.”

He hates that the image of Pidge and Lance leaving them to babysit four children, snickering behind their hands before running off with a robot between them pops into his head first, but it seems…. relevant? Too relevant. “Something tells me they wouldn’t mind.”

“I like seeing you smile like this again,” Keith mumbles, looking to his feet. “It’s nice.”

“Yeah. Same goes for you, too.” He reaches for Keith’s hand, linking their fingers together. “It’s nice seeing you smile.”

“Keith! Shiro!” Hunk’s nephew waves them over to the game they’re at. “Come watch!”

Keith smiles, shaking his head as he laughs. “Coming!”

Right now, everything sits in a precarious balance. Everyone survived the battle for Earth, and the time since has been spent preparing for their final stand against what awaits them back in space—the mess of the Galra empire, Haggar. But even with the time here dwindling before officially entering the war again, it doesn’t feel real. It doesn’t feel like something that sits right before them. Danger again.

“Keith.” He catches Keith’s hand in his own, pulls him back toward him.

“Shiro? What is it?”

“I know… earlier when we talked, you didn’t want a promise. War makes it difficult to keep any of them, but I… I need you to know that I want to be by your side through all of this and after it’s over. And I’ll never stop fighting for you or for that. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Keith stands still for a moment, silent and unmoving, his hand clasped between Shiro’s own until he surges forward, wraps his arms around Shiro in a hug. “Whatever it takes,” he murmurs against Shiro’s shoulder. “Me too.”

Shiro laughs, fingers curling in Keith’s hair as he holds him close. “Whatever it takes,” he confirms again, a cross between testing the vow and reaffirming a sentiment that’s existed for so long between them. Now more than ever may be the time to remind each other of that, though.

Through all of this, now feels like the time they have the most to lose, the most at stake.

He breaks the embrace first, pulls back, but not very far. Just enough so they’re looking at each other. Keith sways, rocks forward a little. He’s so close, barely a breath away. If they only lean forward, a little closer—

“Are you guys coming?” Lance’s niece calls over to them from where she and the others stand by the next game they wanted to try.

“Yeah, be right there.” Keith pulls himself from Shiro’s hold, slower than he normally would, hesitant to break the little bubble they’d settled into, unaware of all their surroundings. The fact that they were so close to kissing in the middle of a crowded carnival.

 _They almost kissed_. They could have kissed. The thought is jarring, enough to make his brain short circuit at the thought of Keith’s lips against his and his arms around him and—

“Come back to Earth, Shiro.” Keith’s laughter catches his attention, as his hand slips into Shiro’s and pulls Shiro forward.

“I’m already on Earth,” he mumbles, still a little awestruck, but more with it than a moment ago. He falls into step with Keith, makes no move to pull his hand away.

Keith lets out a snort of laughter. “You sure are.” He looks up at the sky before speaking again, and laces their fingers together. “That means a lot to me, y’know. Thank you…”

“Of course.” The sight of Keith’s hand in his own is a welcome one. A nice sensation and thought and dream. They could have this, and it’d be so easy, so natural, so perfect. If only—

“Hunk!” his niece shouts, running toward him.

“Hunk?”

“Oh man, guys, I’m so sorry.” Hunk slides to a stop in front of them, lets himself be tackled by the kids excited to see him. “I didn’t think Lance and Pidge would ditch you. I should’ve checked back in, but Shay and I found Allura and Romelle and—”

“It’s fine, Hunk,” Keith assures him. “We had fun.”

“I think we had things under control.” Shiro laughs. “No disasters here.”

“Yeah, wish I could say the same about Lance and Pidge. That’s how I found out they left you alone, actually.”

“What… what did they do?”  

“They’re currently stuck on the Ferris Wheel.”

They cringe.

“Sounds about right.” Shiro gives Keith’s hand a final squeeze before they finally pull apart.

“Yeah, I can’t say I’m surprised.” Hunk shakes his head, laughing when his niece and nephew run from the game and latch onto him. “Matt’s like… super proud or something? He thinks Pidge and Lance rigged it to get stuck.”

Well, they were on the run from a worker earlier, so…  “Yeah. That sounds right too.”

“Sorry you got left with them.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Hunk. The little gremlins weren’t so bad,” Keith says with a shrug. “And they’re better behaved than Lance.”

Hunk laughs. “Clearly, since they’re not the ones who got stuck on a ride.”

“C’mon, let’s go see what the damage is.” Because knowing Pidge and Lance, there was bound to be some to a lot of damage.    

“So, are you guys like, together now? Is that a thing you’re doing?” Hunk looks over his shoulder, grinning, a funny sight when he’s got a kid sitting on his shoulders and another clinging to his hand. “Did we unintentionally set you up on a date?”

“Hey, Hunk, shut up.”

“Hey, Keith, I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.” Hunk laughs before he turns back to face forward, dragged along by his nephew. “Invite me to the wedding and we’ll call it even.”

Keith groans a little, dropping his head to rest against his palm.

Shiro laughs at the reaction. The back of his hand bumps Keith’s, pulling Keith from his embarrassment to look at Shiro instead. He offers a shy smile, tentative as he bumps his hand against Shiro’s now. Keith’s fingers catch his own in a light grip, and Shiro reciprocates by lacing his fingers through Keith’s, squeezing his hand gently.

It’s worth it, seeing Keith’s smile in this moment of quiet, of calm. They haven’t gotten all that many moments like these, and for once, it’s like they’re weightless, carefree for just a moment, eyes only on each other.

“Look at Uncle Lance!” Lance’s niece runs ahead of them, pointing at her uncle and Pidge, who are waving to them from the top cart of the Ferris Wheel, grins sheepish, the robot they’d won earlier as a prize sitting in between the two of them.

“I’m never letting them hear the end of this,” Hunk mutters.

“Me neither, buddy.”

“Where’d they get that robot anyway?”  

“With Lance and Pidge it’s best not to ask questions.”

The crack of Keith’s grin and the sound of his laughter as Lance’s niece takes his hand and pulls him toward the spectacle they now get to deal with makes Shiro’s chest ache, pleasant pressure, the same way Keith always makes him smile, makes him feel more in love than he’s ever imagined himself getting to feel again.

“You coming, Shiro?” Keith asks, turning around to look at him. He reaches out a hand like he’s waiting for Shiro to take it again after the momentary loss of contact, and Shiro’s happy to oblige to if it means feeling the warmth of Keith’s hand wrapped around his again, grabbing Lance’s nephew’s hand with his other as they move forward.

“Yeah, let’s go.”  

  


**_v._ **

 

In the bustle of everyone rushing to their positions, Shiro takes Keith’s hand, pulls him toward him. “Keith, wait!”

The blare of a distress signal rings throughout the Atlas. Keith is supposed to be going to his lion. Shiro should be on the bridge, but…

They’ve made so much progress since they brought the fight back to space. Any battle could be there final one, if Honerva decides to engage them. Between pirates and warlords, her army of Alteans and Honerva herself, they’ve faced so much. They could end this. Victory, peace is just out of reach, just above their heads, waiting for them to grasp it.

But each battle grows more and more dangerous. And they’re going in a little blind here. He can’t let Keith go without saying—

“Shiro? What is it?”

His hand settles on Keith’s cheek. It feels like his whole body is shaking. They don’t have a lot of time. They don’t, but he can’t let go and not… “We’ve been through a lot together. And I don’t want to lose you. I—”

“Look,” Lance turns around from where he and the other paladins had run past them on the way to their lions, hands on his hips as he interrupts.  “Normally, I’d be all for this and tell you two to get a room already. We’ve only been waiting forever for this and—!”

“Lance.” Pidge elbows him in the side on her way past him. Her look isn’t scolding. Instead, the intensity morphs to mirth, teasing. “Focus.”

“Oh no, Pidge, you don’t get to shame me for saying what we’re all thinking.” He nudges her back, smiling to himself when their hands catch each other’s before they turn away. “So! Do it and kiss or whatever! But do it quick because we have to go.”

“Lance,” Allura sighs, but she shoots them an equally knowing smile before she climbs into her lion. “Hurry up, paladins.”

“Don’t worry, Allura. I’ve got him.” Pidge nudges Lance in the direction of his lion.

“ _Oh_. I guess I should leave if you’re going to do that. Carry on!” He lets go of Pidge’s hand and they both get in their lions.

Shiro turns back to Keith, flushing when he realizes his hand has been resting on Keith’s flushed cheek throughout Lance’s outburst. _Oh._

“Um,” Keith finally breathes out. “You were saying?”

“I’ll see you when you get back, okay?”

Keith nods and squeezes his hand. “I’ll see you.”  

They let go of each other’s hands, and Keith takes a step back, turns toward his own lion.

He hates how it feels as if something’s been left unsaid. They’re running out of time, have to move quickly, but…

But if now—when they could lose everything they’ve ever fought for—isn’t the time, when is? When it’s over? When they’re safe from this, from war? What if that’s too late?

No. It won’t be. They’ll make it out of this. They will.

“Keith…!”

He turns around. “Yeah?”

Shiro closes the distance between them, pulls Keith into a tight hug. They don’t have time to throw away right now, but Keith’s arms settle around him, squeezing him back just as tight.

“Come back safe,” he says, a plea for Keith to be careful. To come back home, no matter what happens.

He nods against Shiro’s shoulder, lingering for longer than necessary, longer than they have before he pulls away, reluctant. “You too. Come back safe.”

 _Come back to me._ Unsaid, but implied, certain. They both know, both feel it stronger than ever now.

Keith is off, then. Off and into his lion, directing the others before they take off for their part of this mission.

He lingers for a moment, watches as the lions take off for their destination before he’s off to take his place on Atlas’s bridge.

Next time… next time they see each other, war or no war, he’ll say it. Has to. Needs to. Keith deserves to hear it, even if deep down they both know what the truth has been for a long, long time.

“Alright, everyone,” he says to the rest of his crew. “Let’s do this.”

 

.

 

The whole mission is an elaborately planned trap, a trick to draw the paladins out of their lions and catch them off guard.

In hindsight, leaving them to travel into a secluded cave when they realized that’s where the distress signal led might not have been the best judgement.

They lose contact as soon as the ambush begins, Keith’s call for the others to get to their lions the last bit they get through the comms. The Atlas crew sits on edge when there’s zero response to their calls. What had happened?

“Paladins!” Shiro calls, hoping, praying for something, _anything._ Any kind of answer.

But there’s no response.

“Keith!” Keith will answer. Keith will answer. He has to. He’s alright. They’re all alright.

Nothing. Only static. And Shiro’s ready to say fuck it all and go down there himself. Pull them all from whatever had attacked them.  

If they go in now, they will be going in completely blind, but—

The static cuts out, Keith’s voice ringing over the comms, a little broken up, but there. He’s alive. “Shiro! Shiro, I’m here.”

He’s never been more relieved to hear Keith’s voice. “Keith! Are you alright? What’s happening?”

“Yes,” he insists. “I’m in my lion. Don’t know about the others. They won’t respond. Honerva attacked us. I think she was trying to trap us in the astral plane.”

That’s not good.

“How did you…?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know why I’m still here but—” He swears, loud shifting of gears accompanying it. He’s fighting something. Or someone.

“Where are you?” Shiro asks, worry creeping over him again. “We can come help you.”

“I don’t know. There’s smoke everywhere. It’s hard to see.”

“I’m coming after you,” he tells Keith. “I can help you.”

The comms cut out again with Keith’s yelp of surprise and what sounds like crackling electricity. They’ve lost all contact again.

No. No. That’s not good.

“MFEs,” Shiro instructs, trying to sound calmer than he feels. “Go to where we last had a signal for the other paladins. Make sure they’re alright and see if you can do anything to help them. If they’re incapacitated, Honerva won’t hesitate to attack them while they can’t defend themselves. We’ll try to help Keith.”

She’s not winning this. He won’t let her.

.

She took Keith. Defeated him and dragged him away like it was nothing.

Honerva attacked the Black Lion in a ship that looks eerily like Lotor’s when they had fought him, according to Coran.

And she hadn’t stopped there. When they’d taken the fight to the ground instead, she’d defeated Keith, despite how hard he’d fought. She’d defeated him and took him with her, her ship on track back to Oriande.  

“Get me a ship,” Shiro insists. “Now!”

“What are you doing?”

“Going after her!” Why is that a surprise? She took Keith. She’s incapacitated all the other paladins. They can’t just let her get away with it.

“Captain, you can’t just run in headfirst on your own. It’s—”

“If she goes to Oriande, there’s nothing we can—”

Coran cuts in. “We need Allura if she’s taken Keith to Oriande.”

It’s been Honerva’s domain, her hideaway this whole time. Of course she’d take Keith for whatever twisted plan she has. Of course she’d take him somewhere she thinks no one else can go.

“I’m not just going to sit here when she has Keith!” he shouts, slamming his fist down on the control panel in frustration, desperation. “We can’t wait around! She could—!”

Every memory from his clone is still hazy, dreamlike. Shiro feels present, there for them, but also like he’s watching something that is not fully his. There’s one, one memory, one moment that’s vibrant than all the rest, light in a shroud of darkness. Keith. Keith fighting for him. Keith refusing to let him go, let him fall before the facility even started to crumble to nothing. Keith’s certain, confident, emotion-filled _I love you._

But there’s something else. Honerva. Dark, omnipresent, her control tangled around his thoughts and actions. _He still sees good in you, which makes him vulnerable to persuasion._

Was this what she meant?

Had she wanted him to take Keith back then and not just kill him? For her own twisted plans?

How many times was the universe going to try and tear them apart?

He won’t let it. He’s not going to let anything else be ripped from him. Not Keith. _Not Keith._

“Shiro! You’re—!”

His reflection, caught in a quick glimpse, shocks him. Markings on his cheeks—Altean markings—glowing. When he presses a hand to his cheek, he expects them to disappear, another cruel trick, a slimmer of hope torn away again. But they’re still there, glowing brightly. And he knows what this means, hazily remembers from when Allura and Lotor had explained it.

It’s Allura. All of this is possible thanks to Allura. He knows it. And he owes her everything—not only for saving his own life, but for giving him the chance to save Keith’s.

“Change in plans.” He straightens up, looking to the rest of the crew before him. “MFEs, you and the rebels continue to protect the paladins. Coran, you’re in charge here.”

“And you?”

“I’m going after Keith. So cover me.”

He doesn’t wait for a response, just runs. Knows he has to go immediately.  

“Hang on, Keith,” he whispers, a quiet prayer. “I’m on my way. Please hang on.”

 

 

**_+1_ **

 

It’s eerily quiet. Not at all the reception he had been expecting when he’d arrived here, ready to fight tooth and nail to drag Keith out of Honerva’s clutches. _Whatever it takes_. Instead, the halls are abandoned, tangled in ominous foreboding, not an enemy in sight. Oriande still is a pinnacle of wonder, just as Allura had described it, but even then, something feels off. Something feels corrupted, and the suspicion someone is watching his every move as he runs through mazelike hallways settles in the air like a thick fog, oppressive, impossible to escape.

He rounds a sharp corner and pushes open a giant set of ornate doors, stone and sleek, dark. They open way too easily, like someone _wants_ him to step inside.

Shiro’s heart leaps to his throat, frantic pounding against his chest when he steps inside. The doors shut with a resounding click, but he can’t even think of turning around and leaving.  

Keith lays before him, near the center of a room that’s tomblike—all ancient, sacred stone, enclosed, dimly lit—limp, lifeless, bound to a table in a scene Shiro’s all too familiar with from his own experience, his own nightmares.

The relief that overcomes him when calls out Keith’s name pushes away the shroud of an ominous trap. Getting here, finding Keith, saving Keith, it’s like Honerva is toying with them, confident she’s already won, laughing as she watches him move.

 _It’s too easy_ , echoes in the back of his mind, but Keith’s a vision that clouds all logic, the thrum of adrenaline under his skin. If she went through all this trouble and trickery to get Keith here to the point of incapacitating the other paladins in the astral plane to isolate him, there’s no way freeing him would be so simple as get in and get out.

Still, he runs to Keith’s side, automatic, a thread reeled back in to its tether.

“Keith!” He cups Keith’s cheek, gentle, heart pounding frantically in his chest, fingers trembling as he feels around for Keith’s pulse, searches for some signs of life. “Keith. Please.”

He’s alive. He’s alive. _He has to be_.

 _There_ it is, the faint thrum of his heart against Shiro’s hand. But it’s something. Something that proves he’s alive.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers as Keith stirs beneath his palm. “Keith…”

“S-Shiro?” Keith’s eyes flutter open, bleary, confused. He groans, a pained gasp of breath escaping his lips as he comes to.

Shiro’s fingers curl, relax again, as he can feel the steady heartbeat against his hand. “You’re alright.”

“Told you I’d come back.” Keith groans again, wincing. “What happened? I remember being in Black fighting Honerva. Then nothing.”

“Promise I’ll tell you once we’re out of here. We need to go.” Even with the urgent words, the plea to act, he caresses Keith’s cheek, a small comfort before he pulls away and reaches down to slice open the bindings. “I’ve got a ship outside.”

“Where are we?” Keith flexes his fingers when his wrist is free. “Have to. I’ll be—” Keith’s eyes go wide, and before Shiro can even look or ask, Keith’s hand shoves hard against his chest, pushes him out of the way of a blast of crackling pink light.

It catches the tips of Keith’s fingers, a burn, and he yanks his hand back close to his chest, gasping in pain, the magic searing against his skin.  

Again. Keith saved him again.

“Shiro, go!” Keith insists, franticly pulling at the bindings he hasn’t cut through yet, trying to force himself free. “Go now! She’s—”

“I’m not leaving you!” _I’m never leaving you. I’m never giving up on you._

“Isn’t this an interesting development.” Honerva steps into sight, out of the shadows where she’d likely been lurking the whole time. “I had a suspicion you’d follow us here, Champion, given your tendency to ruin everything I have planned, but even I didn’t account for how easily Oriande would accept you. The one improvement Alfor’s daughter gave you that I couldn’t.”

Allura. He’d known that’s how any of this was possible, how he’d been allowed to enter Oriande. The Altean alchemy that made his arm, that powers it with the crystal from Allura’s crown. The same alchemy Allura had used to transfer his soul through herself—from the Black lion to this body. “You didn’t give me anything,” he hisses.

“I made you what you are.” Her words are simple, dismissive. They’re not true. They’re not. She didn’t make him. She didn’t give him anything. Only took and took and took and she won’t touch anything else. “You’re naïve if you thought losing the weapon I gave you changes that. But you’re not my concern now.” She turns to Keith. “You have something I need, Black Paladin.”

“Don’t touch him!” Shiro lunges for her, throws himself in front of Keith to protect him from whatever it is she needs him for, whatever it is she has planned.

Honerva laughs, the same shock of pink enveloping him, knocking him out of the way. It burns, a jolt of electricity, but he forces himself to his feet, dodges her next attack and tries to hit her again.

She’s gone when he tries to land a hit on her, a phantom flicker, presence everywhere but body nowhere.

Laughter behind him. He spins around, but she flickers to his left, a punch of her magic burying itself in his side. The same burn, the same electrifying pain shooting through his body as she shoves him to the ground.

“You’ve learned nothing.” Her smirk overtakes his mind, a sharp memory of a fight they’d once had like this, a murky, muddled battle of control between a clone of himself and her for control of his mind, of his body.

And just when it’s over, and he tries to struggle to his feet again, she flicks her wrist, the magic enveloping his body once more, constricting, unrelenting as she carries out her attack.

“You are persistent. I’ll give you that.” She flicks her wrist and the shock stops, leaving him lying on the floor, panting. She takes a step over him, stands beside Keith. “But I won’t let either of you ruin my plans again.”

“Shiro!” Keith fights her off as best he can with one hand, still tries to yank himself free. “I’ll kill you!” he screams. “I’ll—!”

“ _You_ won’t be doing anything.” She grabs his face in her hand, bony fingers wrapped around his chin. “Except giving me your quintessence.”

“My quintessence?”

“What a pity. You’ve been blind to all the power you hold within yourself this whole time. You could have done so much with it.”

“Do you know what happens when you harvest someone’s quintessence?” She laughs, running her fingers over Keith’s limp body. “If they’re strong enough, they fight. If not, they wither away unless preserved. Yours is much too powerful to leave alone any longer.”

“Don’t…” Shiro chokes out, struggling to get up, struggling to stand. “ _Don’t._ Take me instead. Take—”

“Shiro, no—!” Keith’s protest is overtaken by a scream as Honerva shocks him, her quintessence crackling through the air and around Keith as he writhes against the bindings.

“You’d give yourself up for him?” The attack ceases, a sudden jolt and Keith is left curling into himself as best he can on the table, whimpering. But Honerva is startled, a faraway look in her eyes for a moment, only a moment of longing, a memory, before she’s her usual self again. Unyielding. Strong.

“Yes,” he says without hesitation. He’d do anything if it meant Keith was safe. If it meant he’d get out of here alive.

Keith’s eyes snap open, wide with horror, fear. He shakes his head, weakly.  

Shiro tries to smile at him, but it probably comes out as more of a grimace. Tries to show Keith he’s at peace with doing this. With doing whatever it took to keep him alive. He’d do anything for Keith because he loves him. God, he loves him.

“Don’t…” Keith’s words are strangled, faint and hoarse. “Shiro, please…”

 _Not for me_ , his eyes are pleading. _Don’t do this for me._

But Shiro can see the unshed tears in Keith’s eyes, the way he sinks his teeth into his lip to keep it from trembling. His whole body shakes from the attack. He’s already weak from the fight prior to being dragged to Oriande. This is just blow after blow and he probably can’t take it for much longer.

He’s in pain, unimaginable pain, and Shiro would do anything to alleviate that. To take it away, even if it meant taking that for Keith. Nothing was worth Keith’s pain. Nothing.

“It’s a touching offer. But this time, you’re not the one I want.” She laughs, her answer clear as she presses a hand to Keith’s chest. “But your love for him, it’s admirable. So very you, Champion. This is what has always made you weak.”

“Do you accept it or not?” At this point, he knows she will say no. Knows she won’t agree to give this up. But if he can buy some time, distract her then maybe… maybe—

Her laugh is chilling. “I don’t need you any longer. I only want what quintessence your precious Black Paladin can give me. You can have what’s left of him, though, since you’re so willing to sacrifice for him.”

If he can get Keith’s Bayard or even his blade from where she’s left it, maybe they both have a shot at this. Despite being severely weakened, together they could win. Together, they can do anything.

His eyes meet Keith’s, a message, an understanding passing between them. They have to act now.

Shiro shoots his hand at Honerva, lunges for Keith like he’s going to try and free him. She can only go for one thing at a time, so one way or another they may get some leverage, an opening to work with.

His fingers wrap around the Bayard. There’s not much time. Honerva flickers in and out again, but he’s ready for her this time. Knows her attacks better after the first few times, desperate determination driving his motions.

But she knows how he fights, too, and that’s a sickening feeling. She’s watched him fight before, forced him to fight, controlled his body. That’s what makes her a terrifying opponent—the meticulousness, the level of knowledge she has on him through experience, and on Keith through using Shiro to fight against Keith at that facility. She knows what to dodge and exactly how to counterattack.

“You have to end this,” Keith insists, when Shiro deflects another of Honerva’s attacks and moves to press the Bayard into Keith’s freed hand. “She can’t take my quintessence if I’m—”

“No!” He knows where Keith is going with this. And he can’t. He won’t let that thought hold any water. “There’s another—”

“ _Shiro!_ Please,” he begs, eyes pleading as he fumbles for the Bayard, hurried, frantic. “Just—”

A blast of from Honerva yanks him from Keith, who screams his name and tries to grab his wrist to stop the recoil.

But it’s not enough. Keith doesn’t grab him in time, Honerva’s attack too strong for his grip to do any good anyway, and Shiro flies back, slams into the wall of the room and crumples to the floor. The claws of her magic cut through the air, pulling the Bayard from Keith’s weak grip. She throws it to the side, forgotten, useless.

“Keith…” As he tries to push himself to his feet, a foot slams down hard on his back, and he’s yanked up by the back of his flight suit.

“I should have accepted your offer to give yourself up and killed you.” Tight pressure encloses around his neck, a crackling buzz of electric near his ear and bright light too close to his eyes. Honerva. “And then I could have dealt with him, since you were so willing to take yourself out of the picture. But that was my mistake I won’t make the same one again.”

He struggles against her hold, but it’s vice-like, deathly. “Keep struggling and I’ll leave you with much worse than a scar.” She taps at his face, the scar across his nose.

That doesn’t bother him in the least bit. He has to get out of her grip. He has to stop her. For Keith. He has to save—

“Or,” she continues after a brief pause, her grip around his neck tightening. “Better yet, why don’t I make you a different promise? If you move, I’ll do worse to him than you could ever imagine.”

The mention of Keith stops him midmotion, terror pulsing through his entire body at the threat. It’s different when it’s his own life at stake. When it’s Keith’s—

Honerva’s laughter echoes in the chamber. “It’s easy, when you know the weaknesses of those who fight against you.” She looks back to Shiro, drags her hand, glowing with pink light toward his face. “Now, where were we…?”

“Stop!”

Keith struggles with the bindings, weaker this time, voice desperate as he pleads. “ _Stop_. I’ll do it. I’ll give you what you want. Just… don’t hurt him. Don’t hurt any of them.”

“Keith!” Shiro struggles in Honerva’s hold again, despite her warning from before. Her magic burns, too close to his face, grazing his skin. “Keith, no! Don’t do this! Don’t—”

“Quiet.” Honerva shocks him again, shoves him to the stone floor as she steps away, up the steps and closer to Keith. “Let the Black Paladin make his own decisions.”

She grips Keith’s chin in her hand, forceful. “You are willing to give yourself up?”

“Yes. Don’t touch him.”

With a wave of her hand, Keith’s bindings disappear, and she drags him to his feet. He’s so tired, standing on shaky legs as she keeps her hold on him tight. “Your friend will pay the price if you try to escape.”

“Keith…” Shiro pants, struggling to get to his feet again. He has to stop this. He has to stop Honerva. If Keith gives himself up to keep Shiro safe, if Shiro can’t keep him safe, he will never forgive himself. “Please. We’ll figure out another way. Don’t do this.”

“I’m sorry, Shiro.” Keith’s voice is quiet, but Shiro hears it waver, thick with emotion. “But I won’t let you die for me.”

“Don’t do this! Don’t put me over yourself. Keith!”

He shakes his head again, sparing Shiro one last glance as she drags him to the center of the dais. “I’m sorry.”

A metallic clang rings as Keith trips. No, not trips. It’s over exaggerated, his leg sweeping over his Bayard to kick it in Shiro’s direction. It lands nearby, not far from Shiro’s place on the ground.

Their eyes meet, and he knows, knows what Keith is asking for, his eyes pleading with Shiro to do what he knows he could never. It’s why he’s doing this. Why he’d agreed to what Honerva wanted. Not only to keep Shiro safe, but to act as a decoy, to lower her guard.

 _“She_ _can’t take my quintessence if I’m—”_ he had said earlier, begged, pleaded.

She can’t take his quintessence if he’s dead.

But Shiro’s answer, his resolve, hasn’t budged, unwavering. He had asked Keith if he would have done the same—killed him had it been necessary in their fight—but now that the roles are flipped, he knows it’d been a cruel thing to ask in the heat of an argument. Careless. Now that he faces the same question, he knows he could never kill the man he loves, even if it meant saving the universe. It’s selfish, but Keith is his universe. Wholly. Completely. And he can’t lose him. He won’t.

_(“I’d find another way.”)_

His fingers wrap around the Bayard, pulling it toward him as he pushes himself to his knees.

He’s never used the Black Bayard before. Only in his lion. Only his clone has. But a fuzzy memory sticks in his mind of Lotor using it against Zarkon.

Honerva’s pushed Keith to his knees in the center of the dais, holds him by his hair, a palm hovering over his chest, quintessence flowing freely from his body to the vile next to her.

Keith screws his eyes shut in pain, bites down on his lip. From here, Shiro can see his features flickering between his human and Galra ones. Just like they had in their fight, something that happens when he’s under extreme strain or distress.

Please. Please. _Please_ work.

The Bayard glows in his hand, shifts and takes form to the chain link sword it initially took form as for Lotor.

_Yes._

He scrambles to his feet, sword shooting out of his grip and toward her. A clean hit that knocks her out of the way.

Keith slumps forward, falling onto his hands to brace himself, breathing heavy.

“Keith!” Shiro runs over to him, kneels down next to him. Honerva hasn’t gotten up yet, stares at them from afar, but he keeps his eyes on her for her next move while trying to take care of Keith. “Keith. Are you alright?”

“S-Shiro,” he pants, fingers curling against the stone floor, scratching against it. He looks up at him, whole body shaking. Keith’s eyes are more Galra than their usual look, pupils small and a wild look in them.

When he’s seen it, Keith’s flickered in and out of this state, never stuck here, never acting like he’s trying to hold something back, trying to hold a heavy weight across his back that’s trying to force him down.

Something’s wrong. _Something is wrong._

“D-do it,” Keith begs, his hand scraping against Shiro’s own for a moment. “Do it! I can’t hold—”

He screams, curling in on himself on the floor, teeth grit and eyes screwed shut tight in agony as he cries out.

“Keith!? What’s—?”

Honerva. She did this.

Shiro aims to hit her again, but she dodges out of the way and sends her own attack his way.

But Shiro doesn’t relent. He has leverage now that he didn’t before. Fear for Keith’s fate still drives him, but now, so does anger. Anger at everything Honerva had ever done to him, and now to Keith. To all she’d put the two of them through.

The chain of the Bayard hooks around her ankle, and he yanks it, pulling her to the ground. Before she can react, he’s got it wrapped around her wrists, hovers over her.

“What did you do to him?!” he screams. “What did you—?”

“I only pushed him to his full potential.” The answer riddled with nonchalance, vague and cold, is accompanied with her smile. Even with Shiro in power here, she’s smiling, acting like she’s won.

“What did you do to him?” he asks again, tightening the chain around her wrists. In theory, if she’d taken Keith’s quintessence, he should be weakened, just like the harvested Alteans Keith, Krolia, and Romelle had spoke of. Just as they knew Honerva was doing for more quintessence, more power. But this is different. Keith’s not a shriveled husk. Instead, he’s holding something back, like something in him long dormant has awoken and needs to erupt.

“You think you’ve bested me because you can use the Black Bayard? This is exactly what I wanted. Hybrid quintessence is the strongest. And his? His is the most powerful I’ve seen.” Her gaze is bone chilling, terrifying. “You drew this side out of him the first time when he so selflessly fought to save you.”

“Shut up,” he says through grit teeth. “Shut up!”

“I _knew_ you being here would do it again. He has such a pure heart. So weak when it comes to you. You played right into my hand!”

He draws back his fist, ready to attack, ready to end this, then tend to Keith, but a whir behind him forces him to dodge out of the way on instinct. A blade whizzes past his head before it clatters to the ground, a short distance away. Keith’s blade. It’s silent. How had he heard that? Known it was headed straight for his back and to dodge? Keith had been screaming a moment ago and—

When he turns his head, a blur nearly smacks into him, nearly running straight through him. He just barely rolls out of the way, the chain snapping back to its hilt as he releases Honerva in the moment of confusion.

She disappears from beneath him, right before she’s hit too, far enough out of the way.

Shiro’s eyes widen when an all too familiar hand snatches up Keith’s blade from the floor, fingers longer than normal, slight claws to them.

“K-Keith?”

His eyes are yellow, pupils small, gaze wild as he directs it at Shiro, teeth bared. And he lunges for Shiro, throwing himself at him again like he had a moment ago.

He throws his metal hand up in front of his face, catches Keith’s blade against it to block the hit. Which hurts just as bad as a blade cutting through his flesh, but he’s strong enough to push Keith back, far enough away that he has some time to move.

“Keith! It’s me!” He blocks Keith’s attack with the Bayard this time, holds him back as they both struggle for stronger footing, more leverage against the other. Except Keith attacks to kill and Shiro tries to defend. He doesn’t want to kill Keith. He can’t hurt Keith.

But he doesn’t have to. A shock of pink envelops Keith, shocking him. Honerva holds up her hand, forcibly pulling his quintessence from him, just like she’d wanted.

Except it doesn’t stop Keith. Only enrages him more as he rounds on her now, inhuman scream escaping him as he attacks her.

She’d done this. She’d drawn this out of him. And now even she has a difficult time getting what she wants from Keith.

But she teleports out of the way, moves behind Shiro instead, so Keith comes at him now. She’s using him as a shield so she can harvest Keith’s quintessence while he’s in this state. And he can’t fight both of them at the same time.

“This reaction wasn’t fully what I expected, I’ll admit,” Honerva shouts over the clang of the Bayard and Keith’s blade, voice gleeful, excited. “But it all ends the same. There’s no getting him back now. He’ll destroy both you and himself.”  

“ _S-Shiro_ .” Keith’s voice sounds inhuman, not himself at all. He’s so close, their blades locked and holding each other back. “Do it. _Kill me_!”

Shiro pushes him off, sends Keith flying backward for a moment to recover. He comes at him again.

“I won’t hurt you!” he screams, voice hoarse, rough as he slips out of the way. But Keith swipes a leg under him, knocks him off his feet and hovers over him in another attack, a back and forth as he pushes his blade toward Shiro, and Shiro tries to hold him back.

“I don’t want her to use me against you.” His voice is choked with sobs, tears dripping down his face with the exertion of trying to control himself, trying to hold himself back. “I don’t want to fight until I destroy us both. You do it. _Please_.”

Keith’s still somewhat in control. Or he can fight for it. This isn’t the end. It can’t be.

“Fight it, Keith!” He lifts his knee up, jabs it into Keith’s chest to throw him off of him. “ _Fight!_ ”

When he scrambles back to his feet, Keith lunges for him again, but he ducks and rolls out of the way. With Keith behind him, Honerva’s in his path instead.

She doesn’t expect it, so conveniently using Shiro to shield her until now, and Keith nearly knocks the almost full vat of his own quintessence from her hands. But she hits him with a blast of magic, knocking him back against the wall. The blast is so powerful, the room begins to shake, the old stone crumbling as she continually strikes Keith with her magic.

“I have all I need.” She smirks at Shiro, releasing her attack on Keith. “Just as promised, he’s all yours now. Enjoy the rest of your short lives together.”

Then she’s gone, disappears from the room in a quick zap, without a trace. Almost as if she’d never been there. Almost as if she didn’t cause all of this destruction and left them for dead.

But she’d miscalculated. She should know after their last fight that neither of them give up on each other. And he’s not about to give up on Keith.

“Do it already, Shiro!” Keith screams.

_(“And if there was no other way?”)_

The chain of the Bayard wraps around Keith’s hands, holds him and his next attack back for a moment before he reacts and snaps it. The Bayard materializes back to its normal state, and Keith’s hit knocks it out of Shiro’s hands, sends it clattering to the floor.

But Shiro catches Keith’s hands this time, flips him over and pins them to the ground. Hovers over him so Keith can’t kick free. Keith is tired, weakening with each punch, running on an already depleted supply of energy and less and less stable and himself with each attack. Shiro has to reach him. Knows he can.  

“Listen to me.” He cups Keith’s cheek, desperate, pleading. “The universe means nothing to me unless you’re in it. You’re everything. I love you!”

_I love you._

For a second, just a brief one, Keith’s eyes flash in recognition. He knows. He remembers. Tears still roll down his cheeks as he tries to stop himself, exerting so much of his already depleted energy. But then he kicks Shiro off of him, right back to where they began. Then he’s back on his feet, running toward Shiro again with his blade.

Something hums in the back of his mind, foreign yet familiar, like it’s always belonged there, an old friend.

Black? No, it reminds him of Black, but it’s inherently different too. It’s something powerful, reminds him of the gut feeling, the way the universe had aligned just right when he’d awakened Atlas the first time.

 _Do it_ , what’s left of Keith is pleading with him. Before he’s completely overrun and every piece of him ceases to exist.

 _Pick up your Bayard_ , the voice in the back of his mind insists. It’s warm, a feeling wrapped around his mind, his heart.

Shiro doesn’t think about it, snatches the Bayard from the floor and shuts his eyes.

The sickening slice of skin and crack of ribs accompanies the Bayard’s deployment.

He opens his eyes when he feels a heavy weight slumped against him, grip on his shoulders tight. Keith. Keith slumps forward, lies against him, a long blade stabbed through his chest.

“K-Keith?”

“S-Shiro,” Keith pants, voice weaker, morphing back to his usual. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me! I—!” He stops himself, and moves to take care of Keith instead. He can fix this. He can stop this. “Let me help you!”

Even as he moves, settles Keith on the ground in his arms and presses his hands down on the gaping wound to fruitlessly try to stop the gushing blood, he panics. Can’t help but think this is his fault. He’d played right into Honerva’s hand. After everything, he couldn’t save Keith. Only hurt him again.

All this time, Keith had done the impossible. He’d survived the most dangerous of feats, obstacles no one else could cross. All of that only to be forced to die at Shiro’s own hand because of Honerva.

Keith tries to smile, winces, expression crumbling to a grimace of pain. “It hurts…”

“I know.” He brushes a hand through Keith’s sweaty bangs, matted to his forehead. “Hang on a few more minutes, okay? I’ll—”

He’d what? Figure something out? Magically heal Keith? Hope Allura would show up and fix things? What could he do?

“It’s okay.” Keith’s voice is barely above a whisper. If Shiro wasn’t so close, he’d struggle to hear it. “Just leave me. Go stop her. Help the others. I—”

“Think of yourself for once!” The blood from the gaping wound in Keith’s chest covers his fingers, a stark reminder that he needs to do something, and he needs to do it fast. “How can you—?”

Trembling fingers reach up, press against the side of his head, wet and sticky. Blood. He hadn’t even noticed. “Shiro…”  

The laugh he tries to let out is more of a sob, strangled, rasping. The burning behind his eyes blurs his vision. Tears. He takes Keith’s hand in his, curls his fingers around Keith’s. They’re both trembling—Keith from weakness at everything he’d been through, his quintessence being pulled from him, Shiro’s from fear, from the adrenaline relentlessly pumping through his blood.

“Shiro… it’s okay. Just go. I’m—”

He shakes his head. “ _No._ I’m not leaving you.” _I’m not losing you._ “I can’t leave you.”

“Shiro…” Keith’s voice is strangled, weak and nearly inaudible. Even his chest barely rises and falls with breath. Instead it’s ragged, stilted and fading. He closes his eyes. “… Love you.”

He’s dying. Keith will die unless he does something.

“Keith,” he cries, pressing his hand to Keith’s chest again, his shoulders shaking with sobs. “C’mon. Stay with me! Please, stay with me. I have so much I need to tell you. Not in the middle of a battle. Not when you’re dying. _Please._ ”

But Keith doesn’t respond. Doesn’t open his eyes.

Shiro presses his forehead against their clasped hands, tears falling down his cheeks. “Please… please don’t go.”

_(“You know I’d never give up on you.” Keith cups his cheek, draws their foreheads together into a gentle touch. “I’d find a way to bring you back.”)_

The memory hits him, sudden, a mess in his panicked rush of thoughts. It might not be relevant at all. But quintessence is life force. Allura had healed the Balmera with it. The Galra had used it to power their empire for years, to build. To create.

Shiro’s no Allura, not in the least bit. But he has quintessence. Everyone does. Maybe…

“I’d find a way to bring you back,” he whispers, looking down at his hand. Its silver gleams, even when smeared with Keith’s blood. “Whatever it takes.”

Keith had gone to the end of the universe and back for Shiro. He won’t let Keith be taken away from him so easily. He won’t give up.

He can’t just sit here and let Keith die. He won’t let Keith die.

That feeling curls around him again. That presence he can’t quite put a name or definition to. The same one that’d told him to pick up his Bayard. The same one that had caused him to hurt Keith by his own hand sits again, encouraging, nudging him in this direction. It’s like Black, but not. Almost like it’s stronger than her, and not something for him only. Its approval hums in his mind again.

The White Lion, he realizes, when he remembers where he’s felt this feeling before—on the way in to Oriande. The whole time running to try and find Keith. Awakening Atlas. In all of these instances, it had been the White Lion. Somehow, the White Lion was testing him, watching him. And he doesn’t know how or why, but it has to be thanks to Allura and everything she’d done for him. _She’s_ given him this chance.

Now that he’s put a name to the presence, he can see it, see it in addition to feeling it. And he knows what to do.

“Keith. I’m… I’m going to try something.” He doesn’t wait for confirmation—Keith’s too weak for that—and he presses a hand to Keith’s chest, shuts his eyes. The komar drains quintessence, Honerva drains quintessence for her own gain, but maybe… maybe he can give it back. Equivalent exchange. Give from himself what was taken from Keith.

Energy, life, his own essence crackles beneath his bones, through his blood, until the gentle burn of it passes through his arm, to his palm, his fingertips. Keith’s blood is smeared all over his hand, red smattered across the gleaming metal, but beneath his palm he can feel the gaping wound in Keith’s chest begin to sew itself together, closing up as if it had been unmarred in the first place.

A soft whimper draws him from the concentration. His eyes crack open, panicked, hoping he isn’t hurting Keith further. Keith’s eyes only flutter open and shut weakly. There’s no other response, but it seems to be working.

“That’s it. I’m right here, Keith. Come back for me.”

Something tangles, intertwines, deep within his chest, within Keith’s own, wrapping around their entire bodies, their minds. A rush of memories hit him, pieces of Keith being shared with himself now that they’re connected like this. Like they can see each other fully, and he can see memories they’ve shared, floats between others that flit behind Keith’s eyes, at the forefront of his mind.

_“You’ll be great, Shiro.”_

Keith’s voice is far away, but so close. So close that for a moment, Shiro can’t piece together where he is or what he’s looking at. For a moment, he thinks it’s worked, that Keith in the present time is talking with him again.

“Keith?” He chases the voice, the quiet murmur of conversation. Chases until it’s right in front of him. “Keith? Where are you?”

The dreamlike haze washes over him, and he sees himself, younger, before Kerberos, so completely different from the man he is today. And Keith is sitting by his side.

He remembers this night. It was the night before the Kerberos launch. They broke curfew to go race out in the desert one last time before he’d be gone for so long.  

“Seems like you’re the only one who thinks so, besides the Holts.” He can hear himself laugh, but it’s bitter, not how anyone else would sound the night before a prestigious mission, one it was an honor to go on. But he’d had to fight every step of the way for it against everyone who said he couldn’t.

“Who gives a shit what everyone else thinks?” Keith says it like it’s the simplest truth in the world. But he’s right. Shiro had always been so concerned with putting up appearances, with trying to control how people looked at him. He never wanted to give them a reason to see him as weak and incapable, but he’d lost control of that long ago.

Keith makes it sound easy, fighting the odds stacked against him, pushing back against everyone expecting him to fail, everyone telling him his choices are wrong.

If anyone knows how to do that, it’s Keith.

“Do what I do.” Keith punches at Shiro, who catches his fist in his hand, laughing at the dopey grin on Keith’s lips. “Prove ‘em wrong.”

“You are good at that.” Shiro laughs, turning Keith’s hand over as he catches sight of the cuts on his knuckles. “But I don’t know if all of your methods would work for me.”

Keith shrugs, pulling his hand away and settling it at his side, leaning back on his hands and stretching his legs out. “Hey, sometimes you just need to punch something.” He grins. “Or someone.”

“That’s sound advice. Remind me to do it next time I want to get into trouble.”

“You say that like you didn’t sneak a hover bike out of the Garrison without permission.”

“But isn’t that the key here? You have to discern what type of trouble is worth the risk.” He gestures at the bikes behind them. “And this?”

“Worth it,” Keith finishes. He sighs, leaning forward, like he’s curling in on himself.

Shiro frowns at the sudden change in demeanor, at Keith’s faltering smile, at him pulling away. “You okay?”

Keith shrugs. “I guess.”

“You sure?”

“I just… I’m going to miss this,” Keith finally mutters, eyes meeting Shiro’s. “I’ll miss you.”

“And I’ll miss you.” He will. He really will. “But I’ll be back before you know it.”

“I know.” He takes a shaky breath. “I know that. And I’m happy that you’re going, but… you’re the first person who’s ever stuck around. Feels too good to be true, sometimes, honestly. It’s selfish because I know how important this is to you, but I’ll miss having you around.”

“Hey.” He rests his hand on Keith’s shoulder. “You’re meant to do great things. I know it. Pretty soon, you’ll be the one headed out on a bigger mission than this, and I’ll have to say goodbye to you.”

“Don’t write yourself off,” Keith snaps. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“Keith…”

“You’re meant to do great things too,” Keith says, firm in his conviction as he looks at Shiro. “And this is just the beginning of them.”

He laughs, rubbing the back of his head. “You’re the first one to say that, too.”

“I shouldn’t be,” Keith mutters. “Everyone should be saying it.”  

“Hey.” The subject switches to something lighter, and Shiro waits until Keith looks at him again before continuing. “I got you something.”

“What?” Keith leans closer, despite beginning to protest. “You didn’t have to do that. Why—?”

“Because you’re my friend.” He pulls out the gloves he’d seen that immediately made him think of Keith, and sets them in his palms. “Thought you might like these.”

“I do,” Keith whispers, looking down at the fabric in his hands like they’re the greatest thing he’s ever seen. A brief pang strikes him as he wonders if the reaction is because Keith’s never been given gifts freely after his father died. He’s not used to small gestures like this. “I love them. But you didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to,” he insists, again, and nudges Keith’s shoulder as a punctuation. No more arguing. “You’ll put them to good use, yeah?”

Keith nods, smiling at him before he pulls them on his fingers. Perfect fit. “You’re going to come back from Kerberos, and I’ll be able to make that jump. I’ll beat you.”

He laughs, ruffling Keith’s hair. “You’ve already beaten half my records. Don’t take this from me too.”

“You’re not gonna know what hit you.” Keith grins, leans against him. “Shiro… thank you.”

“I told you, it’s nothing. You’re my friend. I—”

Keith shakes his head. “Not for that. I mean… yes, for that. But there’s more. Thank you for everything.”

“I’m just being a good friend. Just like you are to me.” He smiles now, patting Keith’s back gently. “Wanna race one more time?”

Keith laughs. “I’ll get you this time!”

“We’ll see about that!” He pulls Keith up off the ground, and heads toward his bike, but Keith’s hand on his wrist pulls him to a stop.

“Yeah?” Shiro asks when he sees the look in Keith’s eyes. Like he has something to say. “What is it?”

“Shiro…” Keith throws his arms around him, hugging him tightly. “Come back safe, okay?”

“I will.” He hugs Keith back, just as tightly. He’ll miss this. Everything about it. Being with Keith is easy, one of the most natural friendships he’s ever cultivated. “Promise.”

“And,” Keith begins, grinning when they pull apart. “I have a promise, too. When you get back, I’ll beat you in a race.”

His own laughter and the nudge against Keith’s shoulder fade out, quickly flash to something else. A muted background of somewhere he knows, but he doesn’t fully recognize this scene. It’s not his own memory. But he recognizes the two figures that stand in a Garrison hallway, one’s back to the other as they become clearer, the muted colors shining to full brightness, like Shiro’s fully there instead of just witnessing a memory secondhand.

“You’re just going to accept it?” Keith’s voice is dangerously low, angry as he stands staring at Adam’s back, fists clenched so tight his knuckles are white. “You’re not even going to question what they’re saying?”

“What is there to question?” Adam’s voice hitches, his hand braces against the wall. He looks like this is the last thing he wants to be talking about, let alone with Keith who’s first action was to accuse the Garrison of lying. Adam had always been more private, preferred to deal with grief or anything like this on his own. “He’s dead. I know you care and don’t want to accept it, but—”

“That’s a fucking lie and you know it!” Keith yells, punching the wall. “He’s the best pilot here. There’s no way—!”

“Keith, stop,” Adam finally cuts in, voice wavering, rising in anger as he turns to face Keith. “I don’t want to talk about this.” _Not with you_ , goes unspoken. But Shiro knows. Knows that’s what Adam had been thinking.

“I’m asking you for help.” This time, Keith’s voice is softer, still with an edge to it, but not as fierce as before. “They’re not listening to me. They’re saying I’m crazy. But if you said something, maybe…”

“Look. I’m not going to knock your way of grieving if this is it,” he says. “But you’re not the only one who’s upset. I am too. We may have broken up a long time ago, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care. I just… I knew something like this would happen.” Adam drags a hand over his face. “Deep down I knew it. But he still insisted on—”

Keith shakes his head, anger rising again. “You didn’t deserve him.”

Adam laughs. “What, and you did? You’ve been a little tagalong ever since you came here. Anyone with eyes knows you thought the world of him. Your hero worship blinded you. You didn’t know him. He was perfect in your mind. You didn’t—”

“Shut up!”

A look of regret flashes on Adam’s face, like he’s realized what he said. “Just… just let it go, Keith. It’s better for all of us… for you, if you let this go and move on. He would want you to—”

That’s the final straw. Maybe because Keith’s knows it’s true. Maybe because it’s hard for him to argue that Shiro wouldn’t want him to throw everything away for this, for him.

“You’re wrong.” The pained whisper, Keith’s voice cracking as he says it seems like a reminder to himself. He clenches his fists, looks back up at Adam. “You’re wrong!”

Before he can lunge forward, Iverson grabs him by the arm, yanking him backward, away from reacting physically and doing something stupid.

Iverson grabs a hold of his arm. “Get it together, cadet. You can’t attack a senior officer just because you’re angry. You need to step up now. The Kerberos mission ended in tragedy. With Shirogane gone you need to—”

“Don’t talk about him!” Keith growls. “Don’t pretend you care!”

“Keith.” Iverson slackens his grip on Keith’s arm. “I understand you’re upset. But the best thing you can do is move on. There is still a place for you here. Don’t waste it—”

Iverson probably regrets not holding Keith so tightly. Not that it matters because Keith is ridiculously strong anyway. But he rips his arm from Iverson’s grip, fist smacking into the side of his face.

“Get out.” Iverson’s voice is quiet at first, then rises in anger. “Get out! You’re done here!”

“I didn’t want to stay anyway!” Keith slams his fist on the wall, knuckles battered and bleeding as he storms out.

A sharp shift and a swirl of white, pants and puffs of breath, feet pounding against the ground in a running stride fill the space, blinding brightness until it settles again.

When Shiro’s eyes adjust to the light, he sees Keith again. But this time, he is alone, curled up on the ground. He’s shaking, head buried in his hands. His bloody and bruised hands. He’s still wearing the gloves, hasn’t peeled them off yet despite the blood on his hands.

He can’t reach for him, can’t touch him, but he wants to. God, he wants to. But he doesn’t exist in this realm, this memory he’s been shown.

“Shiro…” It’s a pained, choked whisper. “ _Shiro_.”

This is after Keith had been kicked out of the Garrison.

It hurt enough merely knowing the reason why Keith had left, but now it’s a sharp pang in his chest, hurting more than he ever thought it would to see it play out before him.

“You promised!” Keith shouts, banging his head back against the wall, of the shack, looking up to the sky like it holds the answers, like Shiro can hear him if he speaks to it. “You promised!”

His eyes cloud with tears again, and he rubs a fist over his eyes to wipe them away.

Something clatters to the floor. Keith pulls his head from where he’s rested it against the wall to look. He crawls over to where a paper fluttered out of the book that fell to the floor. It’s a picture of the desert, the surroundings near a cave. Something that might have belonged to his father.

Keith stares at it for a moment before he sets it aside. He picks up the book, holds it in his hands, fists squeezed tightly around it.

“Fuck them. I won’t give up on you, Shiro. I know you’re still out there.”

The room dissolves, another rush of other memories around him—Keith finding the cave where Blue was, fingers tracing over the drawings on its wall; Keith watching his crash landing back onto Earth from his roof; him meeting Pidge, Lance, and Hunk when he went to free Shiro from the Garrison, sitting by Shiro’s side until he woke again; going to space, forming Voltron, then—

This time, the scene solidifies around something he’s experienced, a memory of the two of them. It’s in one of the brightly lit hallways on the Castle Ship, near their rooms, shortly after they’d first formed Voltron together.

Shiro had left the lounge first, but Keith had followed shortly after him, concern in his eyes when he’d found him.

“Are you alright?” Keith leans against the wall beside him.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he says. “All of this has happened really fast, that’s all.”

“Tell me about it.” Keith shoots him a small smile. “I didn’t think finding you would lead to all of this.”

“Universe has a funny way of working,” he says with a laugh.

“You sure you’re okay, Shiro? It’s been a long few days, and after everything that’s happened…”

“Really, I’m okay.” He pushes back from the wall, rests his hand on Keith’s shoulder. “What about you? Sounds like a lot happened after Kerberos went bad.”

“The Garrison covered it all up, if that’s what you mean. And that didn’t exactly fly with me.” Keith looks at his feet. “I… I knew you were still out there, but… but part of me was afraid you’d never come back.”

The admission still sits like a pit in his stomach, resoundingly painful. How many times since then has he made Keith feel the same? How many times have they nearly lost each other?

“I’m not going anywhere.” He squeezes Keith’s shoulder.

The private moment of comfort breaks when they hear laughter—Pidge and Lance and Hunk—down the hallway. Too close.

But Keith catches Shiro’s wrist when he pulls it from his shoulder, when he takes a step away.

“You’d better not.” Keith’s smile is teasing, but his eyes shine with determination. That steadfast look Shiro knows too well. “Don’t make me have to cross galaxies searching for you.”

Shiro laughs. “I’ll try my best.” He bumps his shoulder against Keith’s. “Come on.”

Keith falls into step with him, at his side as he swipes a leg at Shiro’s ankle. Their quiet laughter fills the halls as they move forward, together, bumping shoulders playfully.

His surroundings blur, then shift. It’s the same hallway, but darker now, and he stands outside the door to Keith’s room, knocking on it.

“Keith?” He raps his knuckles against the metal door. “I know you’re in there.”

“Go away, Shiro.” His voice is muffled on the other side. “I want to be alone.”

“Okay.” He sighs, presses his palm against the door instead as he speaks. “You told me once that you’d be here if I ever wanted to talk. The same goes for you, Keith. If you want to talk about it, I’ll be here.”

He waits for a moment before he lowers his hand from the door and starts to walk away. Keith doesn’t want to talk right now, and Shiro doesn’t blame him for that. It has to be jarring for Keith to learn he’s part Galra when that’s who they’ve been fighting the whole time. It probably doesn’t make a lot of sense to him, but…

The sound of the door sliding open catches his attention, and he turns around.

Keith stands in the doorway, but he won’t look at Shiro, his eyes on the floor instead. “They hurt you,” he whispers.

“Keith—?”

His eyes meet Shiro’s now, upset, uncertain. “How can you even look at me after everything…?”

“Whoa, hang on.” He closes the distance between them, presses his hands to Keith’s shoulders. “What are you talking about?”

In any other insurance, Keith might shoot him a scathing look, but right now he just looks upset and afraid. He’s hurting.

“Don’t play dumb, Shiro,” Keith murmurs, pulling away from his grip. “I’m… I’m Galra. And look at all the things the Galra did to you. Why would you want to stick around me if—?”

“Keith. Keith, stop.” He rests his hands on his shoulders again. “Look at me.”

Keith does, hesitant, like he’s afraid of what he’ll find. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t protest, though, so Shiro continues.

“You’re my best friend. You’ve been there for me when no one else has, and I’m so lucky to have you as a friend, okay? This doesn’t change anything. Whether you’re part Galra or part elephant, I don’t care. You’re still just Keith to me.”

Keith looks up at him, blinking back tears. “Part elephant?”

“Okay, bad example, but you know what I mean.”

“You… you mean that?”

He nods. “Of course I do. This doesn’t change anything at all.”

Keith bites down on his lip for a moment, still hesitant, like he can’t believe someone saying they wouldn’t leave him. When so many have left him alone before. Then, he lurches forward, hugs Shiro tightly. “Thank you.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for.” He pats Keith’s back, doesn’t mention Keith’s poorly concealed sniffles and the tears beginning to soak through his shirt. “Give Allura some time, okay?”

“Okay.” He nods against Shiro’s shoulder. _“Okay.”_

More snippets of memories flit by again in a quick rush. These are fuzzier on Shiro’s end because a lot are his clone’s and he didn’t directly experience them. And Keith’s are with the Blades in his time spent there with them. But—

Krolia stands nearby, helping Keith gather kindling for a fire. Kosmo, much smaller, trots around at Keith’s side, nipping at his hand. Keith’s laughter fills his head, warms his heart.

“Keith?” Krolia begins, “I’ve been meaning to ask. Who is Shiro?”

Keith stumbles, nearly drops the pile of kindling he’d been carrying. “How do you—?”

“He’s in most of your memories we’ve seen.” Krolia smiles, knowing. “He is important to you. Yes?”

For a moment, Keith looks hesitant, like he doesn’t want to say anything. Maybe because he still doesn’t know his mother very well. Maybe because they’re still warming up to each other and this time together after his whole life apart is new. But after his initial pause, he answers Krolia’s question.

“Shiro… he changed my life. He’s…” Keith’s gaze flits down to the kindling in his hands. His lips quirk into a small, gentle smile. When he looks back up at Krolia, his eyes shine—bright with a slew of emotions, fondness, tenderness, _love_. For a moment, Shiro’s taken aback by rawness of the look, the pure adoration on Keith’s face, something he hasn’t show to the world.

“He’s my best friend.”

Keith doesn’t do anything with half his heart, doesn’t commit with only part of himself. He’s all in—loyal and dedicated, devoted and passionate. Shiro’s always admired that about him, that Keith feels with his entire being, that he gives all of himself to any situation, anyone he cares about.

Shiro wants to reach out and touch him, but this shift is like the world’s been shifted on its axis. There’s so much. Their fight. Keith’s _I love you._ Falling together. Black saving him. Allura pulling him from Black’s consciousness. Keith standing by his side until he woke up. All of their dancing around each other after.

The spinning halts, a jolt into place, in Black’s cockpit.

Keith sits against the wall, curled in on himself in a display of vulnerability he doesn’t typically show anyone.

He grabs a fistful of his hair, forehead pressed against his knees. “I don’t know what to do. He keeps pushing me away, and… I don’t know how to fix this.” His voice cracks. “I—”

“Keith.” Krolia sits down beside him, opening her arms. Keith immediately falls into them, hugging her tightly.

“Breathe.” Krolia rubs his back. “Please…”

He’s silent for a moment, leaning against Krolia’s shoulder, a stark contrast to how he’d been with her in the Quantum Abyss. Where he’d been hesitant before, he openly accepts his mother’s words and comfort now. “What if I made a mistake saying…? How am I supposed to—?”

“Just be there for him.” She pulls back from the hug, holding him at arm’s length. “Sometimes, that’s all you can do. I’m sure Shiro will need your support now more than ever.”

“Why do you always know what to say?”

“Sometimes, mothers know things.” She gives him a weak smile, presses her hand to his cheek. “You really love him.”

Keith merely nods, eyes filled with unshed tears.

“Oh. Keith.” That’s enough of an answer, because she pulls him into her arms, running a hand through his hair as she tries to shush him, soothe him.

Keith’s whisper against his mother’s shoulder is hard to make out. “He only sees me as a brother… a friend. Why would I be anything more than that?”

It’s not a no. Instead, it’s a dodge, a dismissal of his own feelings because he’s trying to respect Shiro’s.  

“I think there’s more to it than that.” Krolia holds her son to her chest, strokes his hair as she speaks. “The way you two look at each other… Keith, it’s not as simple as you are making it.”

“It hurts,” he chokes out. “Mom, it hurts.”

“I know.” She holds him like that, wrapped in her arms on the floor of Black’s cockpit, until Keith’s shoulders stop shaking, until the quiet cries fade to silence.

“You deserve happiness,” Krolia whispers when they pull apart. She brushes the lingering tears away, pats Keith’s cheek gently, eyes full of love to mask the sadness she feels at seeing his pain. “And it might not seem like it now, but I know you will get it.”

Keith does deserve happiness. More than anyone Shiro’s ever met. Keith deserves the entire universe at his fingertips and he’d gone and pushed him away. He could lose him without ever being truthful. He could—

“I am happy.” For a moment, Shiro expects a look of sadness, of pain to accompany the red eyes and dried tears on his face from crying. But instead he’s met with Keith’s soft smile—resoundingly bright and gentle. It’s warm affection Shiro feels all the way to his core and Keith isn’t even with him, only speaks about him. “Even if this is all I ever get, I’d still cross the universe for him. A thousand times over.”

It's his clone’s memory, but he can hear Keith’s promise as if he’d been the one present for it, can see the gentle smile on his lips in the dim light of his bedroom in the castle. _As many times as it takes._

His chest tightens, like someone is squeezing his heart, unrelenting. His eyes burn with tears, vision clouding as they threaten to fall. After everything, after closing himself off and pushing Keith away, holding him at arm’s length because Shiro was terrified of fully letting him in, Keith still loves him unconditionally. In whatever way Shiro wants him to—his choice. It’s the same Keith has always been, his best friend, his equal in every sense of the word. Their relationship had always been equal parts give and take, and they’ve shared themselves with each other in ways they’ve never shared themselves with anyone else.

The vision blurs and Shiro isn’t sure if it’s because it’s fading away for good this time, or if it’s his own tears clouding his view of it. Krolia presses a kiss to Keith’s forehead, her voice, softer than he’s ever heard it, when she whispers, “You have a good heart, Keith. I’m proud to call you my son.”  

The next flash of light reveals himself sitting in bed in the Black Lion, Keith’s facing away from him, stands up. They’re fighting. He remembers it too well. This is when he’d pushed Keith away, told him they needed space.

He had thought it was for the best, then, but he hadn’t wanted it. And now, now that he’s operating on a last resort, a pure spark of magic and a lot of hope to try and pull Keith back from death’s clutches, well, he regrets ever saying those things. Regrets everything he’d done to push Keith away. Regrets never telling him how he felt.  

“Don’t leave,” he whispers, when he sees Keith begin to walk away from him toward the door. This isn’t what he wants. _This isn’t what he wants._

This time, he can see Keith’s face instead of only his back, the broken, crumpled look of his shoulders and the sad grimace on his lips as Shiro speaks to his back.

“Don’t leave!”

Frantic fingers reach out, try to curl around Keith’s wrist to stop him from walking away, but they pass right through him. He doesn’t exist here. He’s only viewing a memory where he has to watch Keith walk away. Where he has to watch himself fucking encourage Keith to walk away.

Shiro slams his fist against the wall in frustration, but it just passes through that too. He’s not really here. He can’t do anything.

“Please. Don’t leave,” he chokes out, even though no one can hear him. The blurriness of his tears make the Keith before him in this clouded vision foggy, flitting between the dream, the memory, and the very real counterpart in his arms, who he’s giving life to beneath his palm. “I love you.”

_I love you. I love you. I love you._

Shiro’s eyes snap open at the sound of a stuttering breath riddled with coughs, a sharp movement in his arms. Keith bolts upright, eyes snapping open. “S-Shiro?”

His hands tremble, and he’s not sure if it’s due to exertion of sharing his quintessence with Keith or if it’s from the emotions charging everything.

“I’ve got you.” He pulls his hands, bloodied and trembling— and he’s not sure if it’s due to exertion of sharing his quintessence with Keith or if it’s from the emotions charging everything—from Keith’s now mended chest, to help him settle comfortably in his arms. “I’ve got you, Keith.”

Part of him wants to give into the desire to hang his head and cry in relief that Keith is alright, that he’s back. But the stronger part of him, the one that’s so inexplicably connected and drawn to the man in his arms can’t bring himself to look away, not after nearly losing him. Not after everything the universe has put them through.

“How did you…?” Keith reaches up, touches Shiro’s face, fingers trailing over his cheek like he’s trying to convince himself this is real. “You saved me.”

“We saved each other.” He squeezes Keith’s fingers, light, gentle. The blood between their palms is slick, fresh enough to remind him of what had happened. Of their fight. Of what he’d lost and had to fight and claw to get back.

He’s never letting Keith go. Never.

“You said you…?”  

He breathes out a laugh, brushing a bloodied hand over Keith’s cheek. “Is that so surprising?”

Keith shakes his head, smiles as he reaches up to touch Shiro’s face. “We’re a mess.”

Shiro nods in agreement. Tears clouding his vision. “Gotta stop saying we love each other in the heat of battle.”

Keith squeaks a little, like he still can’t believe Shiro’s said he loved him. “Come here?”

He pulls Keith into a hug, tears leaking down his cheeks as he buries his face in Keith’s shoulder. “I love you,” he says, a mantra, a prayer. Something he’ll never tire of saying, a truth he can’t imagine being so afraid of that he couldn’t say so for months. _“I love you.”_

Keith relaxes against him, arm wrapped weakly around his waist, forehead pressed to his shoulder for a moment, a breath. They don’t have time for more than that.

“I love you too, Shiro. I love you so much.”

They break the embrace, look at each other for a moment before they lean forward again and meet in the middle in a kiss. It’s a little awkward of angle and there’s too much force to what he’d once imagined might be a much gentler moment, but it’s still perfect. Still them in every single way imaginable. Still passionate and unwavering, punctuated with every emotion they’ve ever felt for each other, with everything they’ve needed to say for so, so long.

“I’m so sorry, Keith,” he says when they pull apart. “I should have told you so long ago. But I kept it quiet for so long, and I could have lost you without you ever knowing. I’m sorry I—”

“Shiro.” He stops himself, abrupt, drawn back to attention from his rambling by Keith’s voice.

“Yeah?”

“Please stop talking,” he whispers, and pulls Shiro into another kiss, a much less desperate attempt. Still full of emotion, full of love, but calmer, gentler.

He doesn’t want anything but this. How could he ever want anything but this?

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that.”

“I can imagine.” His hand settles on Keith’s cheek. “I’m all for making up for lost time.”

Keith’s knuckles brush against his jaw. He grins. “That’s an idea I can get behind.”

But a loud bang interrupts them from just that. He holds onto Keith tightly, braces himself for whatever’s next. No one is taking this from them. Not now.

“Shiro? Keith?”

Allura climbs through the rubble of the wall she’d punched in, runs over to them. “I’m so sorry! I came as soon as we freed ourselves and Coran told me where you were.” She hovers over them, concerned as she eyes all the blood and destruction around them, but relieved that they seem to be alright. “Are you alright?”

“We are now, Allura,” Keith says. “Are you and the other paladins?”

“Yes. Yes, we’re fine.” She looks around, wary, as if she’s expecting Honerva or another enemy to jump out at them at any moment. “You’ll have to fill me in on what happened here.”

Shiro looks at Keith for a moment, before he sets him down gently. He stands, then, and pulls Allura into a tight hug. She tenses for a moment, caught off guard, but relaxes, returning the gesture in full.

“What is this for?” she asks, laughing.

“Thank you, Allura,” he says, because none of this, _none of it_ would have been would have been possible without her. He wouldn’t be here. He would never have been allowed to follow Honerva and Keith into Oriande. He wouldn’t have a prayer at saving Keith, dragging him back from death. It’s all thanks to Allura they had this chance. “I’ll explain everything later, but thank you.”

“Yeah, thank you, Allura,” Keith agrees. He’s sitting, rubbing at the freshly healed spot on his chest.

“Oh…” She pulls away from Shiro’s hug and kneels down to carefully hug Keith too. “It seems like you both handled everything just fine.”

“Define fine.” Keith cracks a grin. “Is almost dying fine?”

Allura’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “What?”

“We’ll fill you in later,” Shiro assures her. “So what now?”

“You get Keith out of here. The others will need help outside Oriande. I’m going ahead to find Honerva.” Allura stands up, tall, proud, confident. “I _know_ we can do this. Voltron can do this.”

They nod at her before she’s off again. Allura’s Altean alchemy is more powerful than anyone’s. If anyone can defeat Honerva, it’s her.

Shiro helps Keith to his feet, careful, gentle. “Let’s go?”

He can’t help himself, and brushes a quick kiss against Keith’s hair. It’s enough for now. They have to escape, but there will be all the time in the world for everything that comes after. They can win this. They _will._

“Let’s go.” Keith leans against his side, eyes bright, determined. “We’ve got a war to win.”

  
  


 

**_(bonus):_ **

 

Their future constitutes time split between New Altea, exploring space, and their new home on Earth. It’s happiness Shiro never thought he’d have a shot at—loving someone so completely, renovating and turning Keith’s little shack in the desert into their home, Keith and Kosmo quickly morphing into his own little family after the war, such a natural shift that it’s strange to imagine a time where it hadn’t been this way.

For a while, Shiro was unsure of how life would be after the war, how he and Keith and all the other paladins would fit into a universe where Voltron was no longer at the beck and call to fight against whatever evil was in front of them. Even all these months later, it’s still a rocky road ahead with all the rebuilding to fix what Zarkon and Honerva and the Galra Empire had done, but there’d never been any reason to doubt their places in the universe.

If anything, this level of peace and relaxation has been a welcome change.

Sharing a bed and a home and a life with Keith has been a welcome change, too. Very welcome.

After Adam, he never thought he’d fall in love with someone again, wasn’t necessarily even sure he wanted that, but Keith has always been a surprise, a beautiful anomaly Shiro can’t imagine his life without.  

And hopefully, he’ll never have to, he thinks, as he pulls his hands out of his jacket pockets and unwraps his fingers from the tiny velvet box he’s kept close to him for weeks of safekeeping. Soon enough, it won’t have to be a secret any longer, but that’s something for later.

“Morning, buddy.” Kosmo jumps on him as soon as he steps in the front door, preening as Shiro gives him the attention he deserves.

He’d only left the house for a few moments to put the final touches on a surprise for Keith and thank Pidge and Hunk for their help, but he’s been awake for a while. Kosmo had made himself comfortable in Shiro’s spot on the bed, curled up next to Keith to sleep more while Shiro made breakfast.

If Kosmo had teleported out of the bed, that means Keith’s probably awake by now. Or at least more awake than he had been earlier when Shiro slipped out of bed.

After he hangs up his jacket, he makes his way to their bedroom, pausing in the doorway. His heart still finds it a complete necessity to flutter at the most mundane things about their life together. This morning’s edition includes the reminder that his best friend is the first face he sees when he wakes up each morning and the last he sees when he falls asleep each night. He’s so lucky. So lucky and more in love than he knows how to handle.

Home. This is home. Right here, beside Keith, has always been his home and always will be.  

“Shiro? That you?”

The smile that breaks onto his face at the familiar voice and the pile of blankets stirring in the bed is impossible to contain. It only takes a few steps to cross the room and kneel on the bed next to Keith.

“Morning, baby.” He brushes the backs of his knuckles down Keith’s jaw, over the scar on his cheek. It no longer scares him like it used to. Now, now it’s just another thing that while he’s still guilty for ever hurting Keith, it has a whole wealth of meaning. How they’d cross the universe for each other. How they’d give their lives and their hearts for each other. How they’d beaten all the odds the universe had stacked against them, always finding their way back to each other when they’d been constantly torn apart.

“Where were you?” Keith’s eyes flutter open as he wraps gentle fingers around Shiro’s wrist to keep his hand pressed to Keith’s cheek. Sunlight spills into their bedroom. He’s ethereal, hair fanned out beneath him and eyes all soft, full of love. “‘s cold without you.”

His lips brush against Keith’s forehead. His nose. His lips, swallowing the beginning of Keith’s laughter with the gesture.

“Had to go out for a few minutes,” he whispers. And with Keith’s palm pressed against his heart, with Keith in his arms, here to stay, he knows this is the only place he ever wants to be. “Got a surprise for you.”

“Surprise, huh?” Keith grins, turning his head to brush his lips against Shiro’s palm. “How did I get so lucky?”

He laughs, and leans down to kiss him again. It’s so tempting to get back in bed and stay there together for longer, but he has plans. And if everything turns out properly, they’ll have the rest of their lives for that. “C’mon, get up and get dressed. I think you’ll like it.”

.

“You’re being weird,” Keith says, thoughtfully, eyeing Shiro from across the table. “I’m not forgetting something, am I? It’s not our anniversary or my birthday so…”

“Can’t a guy do something nice for his boyfriend without any reason?”

“Sure. And I appreciate it.” Keith grins, nudging Shiro’s leg under the table with his foot. “I just never thought I’d see the day you could cook something without burning the kitchen down.”

“Not fair.”

“Totally fair. Especially after last time you tried to cook dinner.” Keith reaches his hand across the table, palm up and open for him. Shiro slides their palms together, squeezes his hand.  

“Okay, smartass, I get it. Keep it up and you can forget about the rest of your surprise.”

“What surprise?” Keith asks through a mouthful of food. He looks ridiculous, and it makes Shiro laugh, chest aching with fondness. He wants this. Every single day. “I thought the surprise was that you made me breakfast.”

“No, that’s only the first part. I’ve got something I think you’ll like more than breakfast, so finish eating, and I’ll show you.”

Keith grins, and gets to work finishing up his breakfast. A few moments later, a knock on the door cuts through the quiet between them.

Right on time, he thinks.

“I’ve got it,” he tells Keith, and goes to open the door. Krolia is on the other side, as expected.

“Shiro.” Krolia smiles at him, warm, as she pulls him into a quick hug. “I’m glad to see you again.”

He’s lucky, really, how easily his boyfriend’s mother had warmed to him. Before they were even together, before he’d been pulled out of the Black Lion’s consciousness and put back into this body, she had always been on good terms with him. Always supportive of their friendship, and later, relationship.

“Glad to see you again, too.” He smiles, and returns her hug. “Thanks for coming today.”

“You know I wouldn’t miss an opportunity to help you with this.” Krolia’s known about his plan for weeks, ever since he gathered up enough courage to start to put it into motion and ask for her blessing.

“Mom?” Keith peers around the corner from their kitchen. His eyes light up when he sees Krolia. “What are you doing here? I thought you were with Kolivan and the Blades.”

Krolia smiles when Keith crosses the room to hug her, her arms settling around him. It’s been a few weeks since they last saw each other. “Can’t I stop by to see my favorite son without warning?”

“Of course. I was just surprised to see you, that’s all.” He pulls back from the hug, smiling. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“I should be honest with you, Keith,” she says, pressing a hand to his shoulder. “I know the two of you have plans today. I’m here to keep Kosmo company. And spend some time with you three later this evening.”

“Kosmo?” Keith questions. As if on cue at hearing his name, Kosmo pops into the hallway, tail wagging wildly as he jumps up on Krolia. It’s been a while since they last saw each other.

“Yes, Kosmo.” Krolia pats the wolf’s head until he jumps down. She turns back to them and smiles. “I think Kolivan will be joining us this evening, too.”

Keith’s look of surprise is evident on his face as he looks between Shiro and his mother. “What’s going on?”

Krolia ignores his question, patting both of their shoulders before she leads Kosmo into the other room. “Have fun today, boys.”

Keith turns to look at Shiro. “You called my mom to babysit our wolf?” His use of _our_ is not lost on Shiro, sends a flood of warmth through his chest, heart squeezing again. Just like it does every day with Keith. Again and again and again. “Does everyone know about this surprise except for me?”

“I thought you might have wanted to see Krolia, too, y’know. It’s been a while.” Shiro grins. “And that’s kind of the point of a surprise, babe.”

“Well, how long are you going to keep me in the dark?”

“Not much longer.” He grins. “Close your eyes and hold out your hand.”

The petulant look Keith sends his way before obeying makes him laugh. Shiro pulls out what he’s been keeping secret for a while now, presses it into Keith’s open palm.

Keith opens his eyes at the cold press of keys in his hand. He looks down, confused for a moment, until he looks up at Shiro who gestures to the door. “Look outside.”

Keith throws the door open, stepping out onto the porch, Shiro not far behind him. Outside sits Keith’s hoverbike. It’d been damaged after the Galra invasion, and until now they’d been too busy to fix it up with the traveling they’d done, and trips between New Altea and here. There’d been a lot of rebuilding left to do, and then renovating Keith’s shack as their home. They’ve been busy. But now they have time. Nothing but time.

He wraps his arm around Keith’s waist, fingers splayed across his stomach. Keith’s lip quivers as he stares out at the bike.

He knows what this means to Keith. The bike had been his dad’s, one of the only pieces of him he has left, and Shiro has vowed to fix it ever since they ventured out here in the interim period before heading back to space and he’d seen Keith’s reaction.

“Shiro…” He leans back against Shiro’s chest, head thumping softly against his shoulder.

“Baby? You alright?”

It’s not unlike where they were when they began this adventure—it feels so many lifetimes away now. They’ve crossed galaxies, they’ve saved planets, hell, they saved the entire universe, but in some ways the most surreal part of this whole thing is just how far they’ve come.

He turns his head, smile directed at Shiro now. His eyes are watery, wide in a combination of disbelief and gratitude, affection and love. “You…? You fixed it?”  

“Mmhmm. Been working on it since we got back here. I know we’ve been so busy since the war ended, but I wanted to surprise you. Like it?”

“Love it.” He laughs, their noses brushing as Shiro flips his palm over, presses it against Keith’s. Their fingers twine together once again. It’s funny, Shiro thinks, that he could touch every part of Keith—that he’s able to touch every part of Keith—and it will still never be enough. Keith means more to him than he can ever hope to put words to, and in turn, he has every bit of Shiro’s heart, all of him, right within his reach. They’ve both given and taken that long ago. “Thank you. Really, I…”

“Anything for you.” Keith’s hand squeezes his own, but it feels like he’s squeezing Shiro’s heart. This is all he wants. Keith is all he wants. Always. Forever.

“You said I owed you a race.” He presses a kiss to Keith’s lips, off center because of the angle they’re at. That was so long ago, so many weeks, months, of fighting and now rebuilding, settling. They deserve this. They’ve earned it. “Up for it?”

Keith turns in his arms, and pulls him in for a quick kiss. “You know it! Lemme go grab my jacket!”

It’s been so long. He’s loved Keith for so long, between all the fighting and fear, between all the laughter and tears. Ever since he started to come to terms with these feelings when he was trapped within the Black lion, unable to do anything about them and resigned that he may never have a chance to. Loving Keith was something easy to hide for so long behind fears and doubts that he could never have that, that they could never have this.

Now it seems painfully stupid. Everything he’s ever wanted is right within his arms. Forever.

“Hey.” He catches Keith’s hand in his own before he can run inside, pulls him close again. “I love you, y’know. With all my heart.”

“I do.” He smiles as Shiro pulls him into another kiss, longer than Keith’s quick one moments ago. “And I love you too. Forever, Takashi.”

 _Forever_ , he thinks, as they finally let each other go and Keith runs back inside to grab his jacket.

 _Forever._ The box in his pocket is just a symbol of that, something to make this all official in every possible way later today after they’re breathless from racing. The last surprise he has planned for Keith today.

 _Forever._ Keith grabs his hand on the way out of the house, twining their fingers together as he pulls Shiro toward the bikes. “Let’s go?”  

Gold would look damn good wrapped around Keith’s finger. Permanent. A reminder of everything between them. Infinite. Forever.

This is his home. Right here, with Keith by his side, like he’s always been. Like he’ll always be.

He laughs as Keith takes his hand, tugging him forward and off the porch before taking off in a run, onto their next step forward. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

  



End file.
